The Emerald Leaf
by TheQuietGem
Summary: A 7th year alternative, SEQUEL to my 6th year alternative called the Blue Bloods. Originally written before reading books 6 and 7 in 2003.
1. The Silverstar

**Warning: TAKES PLACE A FULL YEAR AFTER THE FIFTH BOOK! SPOILERS!**

Please Read:

This takes place after the story, the Blue Bloods. It is recommended you read that first before reading this continuation. You do not have to though since all is explained. Sequel in progress, the Tempest of Time.

Chapter I: The Silverstar 

With You Know Who defeated, the wizardry realm was at peace once again. They still could not speak his name without flinching, but the fear of his return was over. Shopkeepers took down their boards off windows and started filling them with colorful candy jars and shelves of new broomsticks.

            Young wizards started to roam through Diagon Alley as if it had been many years ago, gawking through the windows and pointing at all the delicious items they wanted to get. But the most stared at item was not something edible.

It was the Silverstar, an even better broomstick than the Firebolt. Faster than all others and with a silver glittering handle, it surpassed any other. Of course, it was nearly twice the amount of galleons than the Firebolt cost. Only a few of them were made and rumors spread that only one Silverstar had been purchased. No one knew who could ever dream to afford such a thing.

After days of rumors buzzing around, the newly reformed Daily Prophet got it hands into the matter. On the front page in bold letters wrote:

Silverstar Owner Unmasked By Dickory Grimes 

            After Rita Skeeter was fired, her replacement was just as bad. Dickory Grimes, a younger version of Rita, had been howling for the last year over the You Know Who story and how he was defeated. Although most of his information was wrong, the public still gripped every word he said. And so, this article struck the eyes of every wizard out there, including Harry Potter.

            Ever since Harry moved into the home of his late godfather, Sirius Black, life could not have been more hectic. Well, the house was rather empty for starters, not counting the occasionally visits of Ron. The only others there were Dobby (whose company was more of a torture than anything else), Neville Longbottom, and Hagrid. For the most part, Neville was visiting his parents and kept to himself. And as for Hagrid… He was a great friend, but not much of a provider. Harry was in charge of the food shopping and used many spells to clean up the house with.

            And now, alone in the dwelling not too far from Hogwarts on August 23rd, Harry picked up the Daily Prophet and gasped. He read aloud to himself:

"It is my pleasure to inform the public of this latest discovery. A few hours ago, Mister Weevil from Ministry of Mysteries came out with the true owner of the famed Silverstar. Lucius Malfoy, who asked the dealer previously of this prized broomstick not to reveal his purchase to the public, has now admitted to buying the Silverstar for his son, Draco Malfoy.

And I quote, 'With the Quidditch World Cup only a few short years away, my son needs the best money can by, and the Silverstar is by far the best.'

Young Draco Malfoy is attending his 7th year at Hogwarts School with infamous Harry Potter, who we will of course be interviewing shortly over the dealings with his godfather Sirius."

Harry dropped the paper in disgust, but not at the mentioning of Sirius. He was disgusted about the Silverstar. _How could Malfoy have a better broomstick than he had?_ The Slytherins were sure to win this year in school and with all the publicity, Mr. Malfoy could be right. Draco could play in the Quidditch World Cup because of his rich father and that Silverstar.

Could he be jealous of Malfoy? He dismissed the thought immediately, and then jolted at the noise of his Firebolt. It raced toward him, knocking over his books and his wand.

"I didn't call for you," he said to himself, stunned at why his broomstick was hovering a few feet in front of him. It was as though it had a mind of its own and was jealous of Harry's envy for a Silverstar.

After a few minutes, Harry grabbed the Firebolt and placed it back in the corner underneath the cloth that had been tossed to the ground. He walked back to the table and picked up his new books freshly bought for school. The Daily Prophet was now lying on the ground with a moving picture staring upward at him. Harry lifted it and recognized a face.

"Charlie!" Harry yelled, seeing Ron Weasley's older brother next to a bunch of much older wizards trying to tame a dragon. It seemed there was some trouble with a dragon family in Greece. After reading over the article, Harry shuddered.

"I wouldn't want to be in his shoes right now," he said, placing the article back down the desk. Suddenly, the paper flew towards his face, nearly causing Harry to fall over. He yanked it off his face and turned to see the Firebolt again, but this time, it seemed to be glowing red.

"What's the matter with you?" Harry asked in an annoyed voice, grabbing hold of his broomstick. He couldn't let go. The Firebolt started to rise, pulling Harry off the ground. He now dangled a few inches from where he was, holding onto the handle with his two vein popping hands.

Harry managed to swivel his body to the right and lasso his legs onto his broomstick. It felt as though he were back at Hogwarts, on the Quidditch field and ready to fly. But, this wasn't a field, and the ceiling rubbed against his scalp.

"Get back down!" Harry yelled, leaning downward on his broom. It did move, but not down.

Suddenly, Harry shot forward at incredible speeds and was heading straight for the wall. He reached into his pocket and realized his wand was still on the floor after being knocked off the table. What was he going to do? Within in a few seconds he'd reach it!

Harry closed his eyes, preparing for the worst. He had defeated You Know Who, so he could surely withstand the impact of a wall. But he did not hit anything at all. Harry opened his eyes to see that the broom had stopped not even half a centimeter away from the wall. He let out a big sigh of relief and tried to jump off the broom.

It wouldn't let him though. His hands felt like they were glued to the handle and with all his strength, he couldn't budge. And then he heard the most faint voice whisper,

"May we have a fly?"

            Harry spun his head around. "Who said that?"

"I'm right here! Are you blind?"

"I don't—" Harry then looked down at the Firebolt. Two crimson eyes and small lips appeared in the knotted wood. It smiled at Harry who jerked back a little. "You're alive?"

It laughed in a high-pitched voice. "Of course I am! And you haven't been flying me lately! What's wrong?"

Harry couldn't believe it. He was talking to a broomstick. A broomstick! Never in the past six years had he heard Hermione tell him that they were alive. _Maybe I did hit that wall, _Harry thought.

"Don't tell me you didn't know!" Its voice changed from a tiny squeak to a loud boom. "We are all alive, Harry. It is not our nature to talk to our masters, but if the time comes when a broom is being neglected…"

Harry gasped. "I've been neglecting you?" He seemed even more repulsed than he did finding out Draco had a Silverstar. "The nerve. Take me down this instant!"

The broomstick's eyes closed, and Harry fell down to the floor with a loud thump. He got up and wiped off the dust from the Weasley sweater he was wearing. Then, he picked the Firebolt up and said, "Look, I haven't forgotten about you. Hagrid just didn't want me riding you around this summer. If I had fallen off you and gotten hurt… Well, I probably wouldn't see you for a long time."

The face did not reappear though. Was the Firebolt mad at him? Harry laughed at the thought. "I can't believe I was just talking to a broomstick," he said, and threw the broom onto the blue velvet cough across from the fireplace. Harry then grabbed his wand on the table and placed it in his back jean pocket.

For the next few days, the talk about the Silverstar did not die down. Every front-page article in wizard papers was showing off Malfoy's new toy, and what sickened Harry more was that he knew he was jealous of Draco. Who wouldn't be? It had sleek handling, a shiny grip, and special coating so that all the elements were repelled from it. And all Harry had was a talking broom that wouldn't speak to him now!

            Even if Hagrid allowed him to fly, it was doubtful that Harry could. Most of his days were spent writing letters to Hermione over Ron's illness. There were still hopes he could be cured in time for school, but that started in only three days. Ever since he was zapped with the killing curse the previous year, Ron had been in a coma. Hermione actually considered him lucky because he was supposed to die if it hadn't been for Harry's noble rescue. Ron was hit though with a slightly less powerful version of the spell. Some Doctors said he would be fine, but others took it more seriously and had been preparing everyone for the worse.

            Hermione's last letter was shorter than all her others, but still contained the sweet, overbearing sentiment it always did:

            Dear Harry,

                                Doctor Polifer has got everyone so worried. He says Ron won't last the night, but I beg to differ. Ron's shown improvements over the past few weeks.  All his bones are mended and his heartbeat is back to normal. I used an Awakening spell on him, but it didn't work. Polifer yelled at me as if my spell was going to make matters worse. What an idiot! He hasn't even tried a Resurrecting Potion yet! I'm not surprised Dumbledore called him away today. Yes, I saw Dumbledore, Harry! He says hi and wishes to see you immediately when you return.  I will see in a few days, meet me at the Hogwarts Express like usual and don't forget Ron's books!

Love,

Hermione 


	2. The Fly

Chapter II: The Fly   


            The Hogwarts Express was going to leave in less than two hours, and Harry still had not left the home of the late Sirius Black. He could not ride his broom there, the Weasleys were too busy to fly him, and there was no sign of Hagrid. Perhaps he forgot? He couldn't have though. Harry could not wait any longer. He grabbed a piece of parchment and scribbled,

Hagrid:

I left for Hogwarts at 9:30. So don't worry. I used the Flo Powder.

                                                                                    From,              

Harry

He placed the paper on the desk and gathered his things quickly. 

"Seven books for me and seven for Ron, my wand, my suitcase," Harry turned to the empty cage across the room. He was happy that Hedwig was living in a new home, but still missed him very much. Taking care of Pig for Ron wasn't easy though. The smaller cage sitting on the desk contained one very noisy owl. It seemed to love showing off more than Draco did, constantly banging against the cage bars and chirping a song. Harry grabbed his cage and placed it on the top of his wagon. "I think that's it."

Harry then turned to the corner where his broom was. He had almost forgotten it. Maybe he had been neglecting it, but it wasn't entirely his fault. Harry rushed over to the corner, grabbed the Firebolt and tucked it on the side of the wagon. After a few seconds of looking it over, Harry headed toward the fireplace.

He had never used Flo Powder without the supervision of an adult before. It would take him a few feet away from the train station into a log cabin built last year for the use of wizards. With the dust already in his hand, Harry shouted the name of the cabin loudly and clearly,

"The Kadabra Cabin!"

When Harry reopened his eyes, he found himself in a crowded room full of young wizards. By the look of the Muggle clock through the window, they still had fifteen minutes before the train left. Many of the wizards were already leaving except for one very welcoming face.

"Harry!" Hermione shouted with glee, racing over toward the fireplace. She helped him wheel out his wagon and dusted off his shoulders. "Where's Hagrid?"

He didn't want to admit that Hagrid probably forgot today was the day they would leave for Hogwarts. "He really wanted to come, but he's been rather busy with his teaching plans."

"Oh." She sounded disappointed. "He will be there on time, won't he?"

Harry nodded, "Of course." 

The two headed out toward Hogwart's Express, exchanging glances every few minutes. Things definitely were not the same without Ron around to share their jokes.  Last year was the most horrific one, and even though it only lasted a few months before they closed it down for the rest of the school year, Harry had grown very close to Hermione. Not romantically of course, but a tight bond that no argument could ever break.

The first person they saw when getting onto the train was none other than Draco Malfoy, holding his Silverstar high for everyone to see. Immediately noticing Harry and Hermione, Draco withdrew his attention from his broomstick for a few seconds to shout,

"Oh look! It's Mr. and Mrs. Potter! Have you two heard about my Silverstar?" Before they could respond, Draco answered himself. "Of course you have! Your Firebolt looks pretty pathetic compared to this!" He waved it up high so everyone on the train, even those not in the Slytherin House, could awe at it.

            Hermione tugged on Harry's sleeve to move along, but Harry wanted to prove to Draco that the Silverstar was not the best, even though Harry secretly thought it was. 

            "Does your broom talk?" Harry asked, realizing what an idiot he sounded like.

            Draco didn't hear him though, too busy showing off his Silverstar to everyone on the train. Before Harry could shout the question again, Hermione had pulled him into an empty compartment and thrown him onto a seat.

            "Hermione!"

            She hushed him and looked very grim. "You never told me your Firebolt was a Driveller!"

            "A what?"

            She sighed. "You said your broom could talk! It's just like your Parseltongue gift. Only a select few can do it."

            Harry looked confused. "Oh, but my broom gave me the impression that all brooms could talk..."

            "No," Hermione seemed very upset. "You don't understand. A talking broom is a bad broom. The first ones were used centuries ago to shout out spells during games and wars so that other opponents or enemies, would, well, die."

            "I don't believe my Firebolt—"

            "You said it yourself. It already deceived you by making you think nothing of its abilities. What if you never mentioned this to me and during the next Quidditch game—"

            Harry's face was red as he yelled, "Hermione! Don't worry so much! No one is going to take control of my broom and make it shout out curses. It's not even speaking to me because it's mad at me…" 

            Hermione and Harry seemed to share the same thought at the same time. If the Firebolt were mad at him, it would try to do those things not to hurt others but to hurt Harry.

            "I think you should tell Dumbledore about this."

            "But what if he takes it away from me?" Harry asked. "Then Draco will have the greatest broomstick ever, and I will have nothing at all!"

            "Oh, Harry, don't be ridiculous. All Dumbledore has to do is say Idiomne with his wand and your broom will never speak a word."

            "Why can't I just do that now?" Harry reached for his wand.

            "No! You can't! It's too advanced for you. You might wind up shutting your own mouth or something worse."

            Hermione seemed rather protective of Harry lately. You Know Who was gone, so why was she still so concerned? No one was out to get Harry now. And with Hagrid looking over him, it seemed very unlikely anybody would dare come after him.

            In either case, Harry had to admit she was right. In a few hours, they would arrive at Hogwarts, and he'd tell Dumbledore everything.  But until then, Harry had to put up with the constant interruptions of people asking questions about what happened last year. He didn't want to answer any of them.

            After he saw Neville rush pass the room (he had been at St. Mungo and got a ride with the Weasleys), Hermione raised her wand at the door and shouted,
    
                   "Claudere et Cataracta!"
    
                   Bolts appeared along the side of the door and glowed every few seconds. She smiled and turned to Harry saying,
    
                   "There, no more disturbances."
    
                   Harry was relived. If one more person came knocking at their door, he would have surely used a dangerous spell against them. All of a sudden, Harry realized he hadn't heard the chirps of Pig for a while. He turned to his cage that was on the seat next to them.
    
                   "He's not dead is he?" 
    
                   Harry grabbed the cage and moved it closer to him. He opened the door to find Pig sleeping with a small blanket around him. It was definitely one of Dobby's socks that was knitted for Ron last Christmas. 

            Crookshanks lurched nearby, pawing in between the metal bars. After petting Pig on the head, Harry swooshed the cat away with his hand and sat down calmly on his cushioned seat. Soon he'd be at Hogwarts, trying to enjoy one of his last years without Ron and without trouble. 

            Hermione grabbed her cat off the ground, scratched it underneath its chin and glared at Harry.

            "You won't forget to tell Dumbledore about your Driveller, will you? Promise me you'll tell him right away," she said in a commanding tone.

            He nodded saying, "Of course. Look, if it makes you feel any better, you can come with me and make sure I don't conveniently forget."

            "Well, all right…" Her eyes peered at the Firebolt covered up in a thick blanket. Finally she said, "How many times has it spoken to you?"

            "Only once actually," he said. "A few days ago."

            Hermione's eyes widened. "That recent?" She seemed awfully worried about this. "Don't you see? Of all days to make contact with you, it chose only a week or so before you would return to school."

            "Are you implying that it was going to kill me? All it wanted to do was fly with me."

            A loud groan escaped from Hermione's mouth. "You didn't, did you?"

            "Of course not. That's why it was angry with me. It said I had been neglecting it all summer, which I suppose I did now that I think about it. But it's a broomstick! What possible feelings can it have? It doesn't have any more than those books of yours."

            "Harry! Are you that dumbfounded? It was mad at you because it didn't get the chance to kill you. Drivellers are alive like you and me. They can think, they can talk, and they can murder!"

            This was too much to take in. "Why haven't I heard of this before?"

            "Because it's very rare. Only few cases were ever reported in the History of Magic, but no details were ever given as to how or why certain brooms have this ability. However, I think," Hermione paused, taking in a few deep breathes, "I think whoever sold," she paused momentarily but continued, "sold Sirius," she coughed, "that Firebolt knew well already it was a Driveller. Perhaps an enemy of yours in the past."

            "Which one?" Harry asked, chuckling a little.

            "This isn't funny at all, not at all. Don't touch it!" Hermione yelled; Harry was about to pull off the blanket covering the Firebolt. 

            "And why not? Maybe if you talk to it we can find out more about it."

            Hermione's face was very pale. "Oh yes, bright idea. Let it put a curse on me, and then, let it attack you!"

            Abruptly, there was a banging on the door. A familiar, most unwelcome voice boomed in through the locked entryway. 

            "Are you two making out in there?" 

            It was Draco Malfoy. Perhaps his Silverstar was boring him or who couldn't resist the chance to annoy Harry and Hermione. Draco made kissing noises along with Crabbe and Goyle who seemed to never leave Draco's side. Their laughs died out after a while for no apparent reason. 

            Hermione walked toward the door, said "Alohomora" and pushed opened the door. There stood Professor McGonagall with her large eyes staring deep into Hermione's. Without questioning their activity, although she most likely suspected what Draco had, she said,

            "We have arrived at Hogwarts. I suggest you two gather your things and follow me with the rest of the upper class wizards." 

            She turned her back for a few minutes while Harry and Hermione grabbed everything they could. They hurried along toward the exit where the Silverstar still diverted all the attention of new wizards and Slytherins. 

            However, Hagrid was not there to greet him. A confused look crossed Harry's face, expecting Hagrid to have made somehow.

            "Oh, I completely forgot! How stupid of me! Hagrid won't be here for another day." Harry gave Hermione a puzzled look, unsure of how she knew this. "I wrote to him last week, and he told me he was arranging a surprise. I don't know what, so don't ask. But he will be here after the Sorting Hat ceremony. I'm sorry. I really did forget."

            Even though Harry was a little disappointed, he was still happy to be at Hogwarts. Autumn leaves crunched underneath the students' feet as close to one hundred new wizards scrambled about. He got the usual stares and points directed at his forehead. By now, Harry was used to it and didn't even think much of all his glorious fame.

            The Gryffindors swarmed around Harry, tugging him one way and then the other. From a few feet away, he saw Hermione glaring at him with her eye lashes fluttering up and down. Standing next to her was Dumbledore who was busy greeting the new children. He then turned to Hermione who seemed to tell him everything, but his face didn't look worried. 

When the crowd saw Draco, they actually left Harry in a heartbeat, too eager to see a Silverstar up close and maybe even touch it.  With the followers disembarked, Harry ran over toward Dumbledore with his covered up Firebolt beside him. After waiting a few seconds, the old white bearded man turned his head to meet Harry's eyes and delightfully grabbed the Firebolt out of Harry's hands. As he took off the blanket, Hermione jolted behind Harry, afraid that it would shout the Killing Curse at her or something.

            "Indeed," he said in a deep, elderly voice. His half moon spectacles were at the edge of his nose that was a few inches away from the broomstick. He inspected it thoroughly, sliding his rough hands over the broom's surface.  "What is its name?"

            "Name?" Harry asked having no idea that it was actually called something. Dumbledore nodded his head.

            "Yes, its name. Surely you know your own Firebolt's name?" The confused look on Harry's face told him his answer. "I suppose I will have to awaken it."

            Hermione yelled, "Awaken it! You can't!"

            Dumbledore stared at her asking, "I am puzzled by your protest. Explain."

            "Obviously it wants to hurt Harry because of the incident that I told you about."

            "Nonsense. Stand back," Dumbledore said pushing Hermione aside. Using an ancient wand in his hand, he swooshed at the broomstick and shouted, "Nondomientus" 

            Two red irises stared at the magical beings around her and blinked a few times before she realized who it was looking at her. Resentment smeared across her face, if that could be called a face. 

            "There now, she's awake."

            "She?" Harry said, wondering why Dumbledore referred to his broomstick as a she.

            "Yes, that's a female Driveller."

            "Of course," Hermione said gleefully, "a female's eyes are red while the male's are blue."

            "She'll only talk to you, Harry," Dumbledore said, "since you are her owner."

            Stumbling forward toward the Firebolt, Harry asked, "Erm, ah, do you have a name?"

            The Firebolt said in a monotone voice, "Malicia… But Harry Potter would not know my name… Harry Potter has forgotten all about me. I do not wish to talk to Harry Potter."

            Her eyelids started to fall until Harry shouted, "I'm sorry, Malicia! I did not want to admit before that I had 'neglected' you, but I did."

             Malicia's eyes shone once again as her lips moved. "You have brought me to Hogwarts? You will fly with me once again?"

            Before Harry could answer, Dumbledore stepped forward and placed his hand on the Firebolt.

            "I am Professor Dumbledore. I wish to question you, Malicia."

            "I will answer only if Harry Potter promises to fly with me."

            Harry nodded his head, and the broom's lips widened. Dumbledore dragged the broom in the air and quickly said to Harry and Hermione,

            "It would be best if I were to question her alone. I recommend you go to the Sorting Hat ceremony. I will be there very shortly."

            And with that they were off. It was always wonderful to see who would join their house, the Gryffindors. There were some Muggle born wizards this year, and Hermione really wanted to meet them.

            They were a few feet into the corridor when a cold presence surrounded them. Hermione looked over at Harry and whispered,

            "What was that?"

            "What was what?"

            "I think I heard something," Hermione said, looking about. No one else was there. 

            They continued walking until something terribly frightening blocked their path. It was a ghost, a big fat one with a curly mustache and culottes.

            "What are you doing here?" Harry asked in an impolite tone.

            Sir Nicholas swiveled his head, tapped his toes and sneered. After glaring over at Hermione, he huffed and coughed, whispering something that could not be heard. Slowly his feet melted into the floor as he shifted to another part of the corridor and was gone.

            "That was rather odd, wouldn't you say, Harry?" 

            But it wasn't odd. For some reason, Harry knew that Nicholas would react that way. He wasn't psychic nor was it some kind of intuitiveness. Definitely something was different, something was wrong.

            "Come on, let's go," he finally responded, clutching onto Hermione's robe and racing toward the dining hall. Every corridor seemed darker and longer, and it was taking several minutes seeming like hours. 

After a good five minutes, they arrived only a little late. Two students were sent to Hufflepuff already but the long line of new wizards was still there. Harry and Hermione crept to their empty spots across from Ron and his brothers. 

Within a few seconds they heard the Sorting Hat shout Gryffindor to a young boy with blonde locks streaming down his back. He wore white ruffles, a golden red buttoned vest and black pants that cut off below the knee and tucked into thick blackened boots. Ron waved to him, gesturing him to sit to the left of him where they were two vacant seats. However, at that moment, Harry completely forgetten Ron was supposed to be ill.

"Hello," he said in a French accent. "I am Carillon Schafly, but my friends," he paused but quickly continued, "Um, my friends call me the Fly."

"Why do they call you that?" Hermione asked, gazing into his blue pools.

He snickered and replied, "Because I am the fastest flyer you will ever see."

Ron then yelled, "You haven't seen Harry fly then! I bet you he could be you any day with his—"          

Hermione shot a look at him, and he immediately shut his mouth. He'd seen that look too many times before, and it always meant that he was going to say something stupid that he would get screamed at later for. 

"Slytherin!" The first new wizard to enter that house was announced. A young lady with long brown hair, almost floor length, and peculiar yellowish brown eyes walked over toward her new house. Harry stared for a second at her as she stared back and then focused her attention back onto Carillon.

"Where exactly are you from?" Harry asked, pushing his spectacles back up.

"Why, I am from the country of love, um, Harry I think it is."

  Laughing a bit, he replied, "Sorry. I don't know what that is."

"France, my good wizard. And who is this lovely lady?"

Ron looked around and jokingly said, "What lady? All I see is Hermione."

After kicking him underneath the table, she looked back up at him and sighed. "Oh, shut up Ron, will you? And stop staring at that Slytherin girl."

"I'm not. I don't even know her name."

The Fly interrupted. "That, my dear friends, is Elise Wings. She is a Scottish lady, I believe, and has fantastic abilities in the dark arts. If she had a chance, she could out power almost anyone here."

"I take it you've met her before?" Ron asked.

"Well, yes, in another lifetime. It was long ago, at a different school…" He glanced over at her who was now socializing with Draco and being shown the Silverstar. "But enough of that. Let's eat!"


	3. Malicia

Chapter III: Malicia

            "Mr. Potter, may I have a word with you," Dumbledore leaned forward as students left the Sorting Hat Ceremony.

            "Of course. Ron," Harry paused. He just realized that Ron was there and not in the hospital wing. Hermione must have known all along. "Ron and Hermione, please tell Hagrid I will be greeting him shortly."

            "Took you a bloody long time to realize I was here, Harry," Ron said, laughing as he walked off with Hermione.

            Harry then followed the white bearded wizard into the back corridors leading toward some old alchemy rooms. As they approached one iron door with silver locks across it, Dumbledore took out his wand and unleashed it on the archway. Flashes of light made the door dissolve completely, and they entered a room that Harry had never set foot in before.

            Shelves filled with wrinkled, leather-bound books and aged potions whose dust crusted in layers. Parchments with ancient inked writing pressed upon yellow twigs hug in front of stained glass windows that shed no luminosity. In searching for a light source, Harry ogled in amazement at the firefly ceiling, glittering with thousands of golden pressed insects. 

            "Incredible," he managed to say as he stumbled into a wooden stool.

            "Careful, please do watch where you step," Dumbledore pointed out the palate under Harry's feet that was full of swirls and triangular symbols.

            After he leaped off of it, Harry asked, "What is it?"

            "That is piece of history. But, I did not ask you here to discuss that. Another time perhaps. No, I came to discuss this." Dumbledore turned to a cloth on the table and pulled it off, revealing Harry's Firebolt.

            "Is it, she, doing anything bad?"

            Dumbledore shook his head. "Actually, Malicia here was quite cooperative. Her past is a bit hazy, but her first real owner, her maker, was alive right after Hogwarts was built."

            "But how is that possible?" Harry asked.

            "Well, Malicia wouldn't exactly tell me her origin… She did say her abilities came from another wizard but refused to tell me any more about that. However, she did tell me that over the years, she was taken to many wielding shops, transformed into a better stick. Until eventually, she was made into a Firebolt. She does not seem to remember anything after that except meeting you, Harry."

            "But, why didn't she speak to me before?"

            "Because Harry Potter never ignored me before!" A high shrieking voice belonging to Malicia growled, floating in the air and hovering a few inches in front of Harry's nose.

            "Look, I didn't mean to. I promise," Harry paused and patted Malicia's handle. "I promise to ride you and never to forget about you again."

            "If Harry promises, then I will accept." Her face faded away once again.

            Dumbledore sighed and nodded his head. "You may take her; however, if anything suspicious occurs, I will have to take her away from you. Understood?"

            Harry nodded and grabbed the Firebolt. He raced back to the Gryffindor wing, running up stairs that changed every few seconds. An ugly painting of three hogs wearing men's suits stopped him.

            "Password, password, password," each hog said three times in different pitches.

            "Oh, no, I never got it!" Harry yelled. He looked around to find anyone he knew that could possibly know it. Down the corridor was Fly walking with another person. However, a black robe covered him or her, hiding everything.

            "Fly!" Harry shouted, grabbing his attention immediately. He said goodbye to the stranger next to him and jogged toward Harry.

            "Forgot the password and can't get in?"

            "Yes, how did you know?"

            Fly laughed. "Because you are out here and look puzzled. And besides, I already had to let in another person." He turned to the painting. "Red Riding Witch."

            The door swung open abruptly. "Thanks," Harry said and ran toward Ron sitting in a fluffy blue chair near the fireplace.

            "Damn you, Ron. I thought you were really sick."

            "I was!" Ron defended himself. "Luckily, Madame Pomfrey did a better job than that Polifer. By the way, Harry, what did you do to Pig?"

            "What do you mean?" Harry asked.

            "Oh, come on. Look at him!" Ron pulled the cover off of Pig's cage. "He's fat. You've been feeding him too much."

            "Stop complaining, Ron."

            They stared at each other, trying to forget about the fight they had last year. Those bitter words screamed in spite and anger were not of their courteous nature. And yet, it still happened, and all that hatred had to be put aside this year because they were 'friends' again; although, they never could be the same type of friends they were the years before.

            After an odd period of silence, Harry spoke up again.

            "I'm glad to see you're back though. What are your classes this year?" 

            Ron pulled a white strip of paper from his back pocket that had black blotches of ink all down the sides. After grabbing it from Ron's hand, Harry skimmed the list out loud.

            "The Darks Arts Ancient History… I can't read the teacher's name."

            "Snape."

            "He's teaching Dark Arts?" Harry asked stunned.

            "Just the history of it. He can't really teach us it."

            Pausing to take it in, Harry continued. "Polymers and Potions III… Miss Lillifoot… What's this?"

            "What?"

            "I've never heard of this class before… Medieval Dragons."

            "Oh, haven't you heard? Charlie is going to teach a class here. He told me about it when I was in the medical wing. They are going to bring real dragons for us to tame and show us all these methods and—"

            Harry's eyes widened. "You know, I never looked at my schedule."

            "What do you mean? How could you not?"

            "I guess with all these things happening, with visiting Sirius's grave, household chores and Malicia and new students like Fly, I never got around to it. Hagrid bought all my books and covered them. When I brought them here, I never looked at them. That reminds me, I have to pick two other ones today that I forgot. Care to join me?" Harry asked, fiddling with his pockets.

            "I suppose so," he responded, sluggishly leaving his chair. He closed Pig's cage and placed the invisibility cloak on it. "That's to make sure no one steals him. You know, with all the new students and all… Don't give me that look, Harry."

            "What look?" Harry asked, rolling his eyes again.

            "That one! Oh, let's go."

            Ron grabbed Harry's hand, and they headed down the corridors and down the staircase to the delivery room, not for infants but for mail and packages. Only sixth year students and above could enter it.

            As Harry turned the knob, the door busted open, and someone in a black robe rushed out. The door smacked Ron right in the nose, causing it to bleed. 

            "Hey now, watch where you're going!" he shouted.

            The stranger stopped and replied in a sweet voice, "Quite sorry." 

            It was definitely a girl due to the pitch, but she never turned around. Harry could have sworn it was the same person in the robe next to Fly. Was it possibly a girlfriend? Before curiosity got the best of him, Harry followed the now injured Ron into the room.

            "Ah, here it is," Harry said, standing in front of a mail slot with two thick books. He grabbed them, and gave Ron the letters. The top book Harry carried stretched across in red was the title 'Dragons'.

            "Oh, you have my brother's class!" Ron yelled, almost dropping all the papers.

            Harry smiled as they left the room quietly. Suddenly, the face of Harry met the floor as he flew down. His books scattered in front of him as Ron stumbled, trying to regain his balance.

            "Did you trip, Harry?" Ron asked, watching Harry grumble as he tried to get back up. "Blimey!" Ron saw shiny, plump red lips attached to a broomstick.

            "Malicia!" Harry yelled as he crawled back to his feet. "What are you doing here?"

            To Ron's surprise, the broomstick spoke back. "Harry Potter left me alone.  That was not nice of Harry Potter. Harry Potter promised to fly with me but—"

            Ron grabbed the broomstick abruptly and shook it. "Did you put a spell on it?"

            "No. That's a Driveller. Hermione knows more about them than I do. Malicia, I will fly with you tomorrow. Now, do not follow me again!"

            The face disappeared, and Malicia fell to the ground. Harry loosened his belt buckle a few notches, picked up Malicia and tucked her to the side. He then tightened his mahogany leather belt again.

            "Sorry about that. Let's head back to the dorm," Harry said before he picked up his books again and headed off to the Gryffindor Tower.


	4. Dragons & Racing

Chapter IV: Dragons And Racing

  


"We only have two classes, Ron," Harry said disappointed.

            Without responding verbally, Ron pointed to the Dragons book on the counter and smiled.

            "Yes, at least we have that class together. I wonder what Hermione is taking this year."

            Just at that very moment, a frizzy haired Hermione jolted past them holding at least a dozen books that hid her mouth and her nose. She raced up the spiraling staircase to the girls' part of the Gryffindor Tower, not saying a word to Harry or Ron.

            "What's her problem?" Ron asked, sluggishly falling into his seat.

            "I hope she's not taking too much this year."

            After Ron rolled his eyes, he threw a long piece of paper at Harry. "She's taking twelve courses with no time traveling. She has nine each weekday, each one-hour, and three on the weekend. She's ludicrous."

            Harry nodded in agreement. "At least we have the Dragon course together. Our teacher… Mr. Charles Weasley." 

            They both smiled greatly at the thought. The next day they would be riding dragons in the air, soaring above Hogwarts as they performed tricks for each other. Somehow Harry knew he'd be a great dragon flyer. As they both fantasized about it, a gold, sparkling fairy flashed before them. 

            It was about three inches tall with pink wings and a golden-yellow body. It wore no clothes although its hair covered everything.

            "Harrrrryy Potterrrrr," it said, having a hard time pronouncing the r's.

            "What are you?"

            It responded, "I am Mera, a messenger fairy. Someone would like to see you at the Quidditch fields now. Bring whatever broomstick you have. That is all."

            The fairy then left the room in a blink causing a puff of pink clouds to float above Harry's head. 

            "I didn't know we had messenger fairies here," Ron said still staring at the clouds.

            "Neither did I. But I guess I have to practice. And—" Harry paused and turned to Malicia, still fastened to his waist. He gulped loudly while he started to tremble down his body. How could he ride her? What if she cursed a spell like Hermione said? Or worse… But he did promise to fly with her, and so, Harry took the broomstick out of his belt bracket and sighed.

            "Malicia, I am going to Quidditch practice. No funny stuff. You hear me?"

            The broomstick didn't respond.

            "I guess that's a yes then. I'll see you later, Ron. Oh, and do try to talk to Hermione."

            "About what?" Ron asked.

            "You know what."

***

            "Harry!" A tall, bearded man shouted from the center of freshly cut Quidditch field.

            "Oh, is that you, Hagrid?" 

            "Great gazooks, ya've grown since I've saw ya last week. At least t'ree centimeters I'd say," he chuckled. "Anyway, I see ya received me Mera."

            As Harry nodded, a gold dust sprinkled onto his nose. Swiveling his neck to the left, he saw Mera who was neither he nor a she. The fairy glittered continuously and loved to flash before and about, twinkling its fingers and tapping its toes on Harry's shoulders.        

            Everything was quiet. Stadium seats were barren, and there were no banners hanging over banisters. Each blade of grass slightly bent over due to the gentle breeze, and the violet haze of an early sunset stretched across a starless sky. 

            "It's lovely to see you, Hagrid. I thought you forgot school started. Did you visit your little brother? Is that why you are late?"

            "Too many quest'ons, Harry. One at a time."

      Harry smiled slightly. "I assume you wanted me to practice because of some sort of event or game soon?"

            The half giant's eyes glanced over to the side as his hand slowly reached upward to tug on his entangled rough of beard. He cleared his throat loudly and said,

            "Actually, I want te show ya somet'ing."

  "Then why do I need my broomstick?" 

            "Ya see, Harry, ya have te fly above de barrier over dere te see it. Go on, take a look."

            Trusting Hagrid, Harry readied his broomstick, making sure she was not awake or grouchy. After some hesitation, he mounted onto Malicia and then over to the barrier not too far away. It was entwined in pea green vines that sprouted cherry blossoms and soft, flaxen daffodils. 

            As Harry pushed his feet off the ground, he began something underneath his hand. It was somewhat bumpy, but he could not think of what it could possibly be. Then, he heard the muffling of a voice. Quickly, Harry moved his hand toward himself to reveal the face of Malicia smiling at him.

            "Fresh air, fresh air. Let us fly, let us fly!"

            With incredible speeds, Malicia flew through the air, heading straight for the barrier. 

            "Up! Up!" Harry yelled, trying to control his broomstick.

            After a few seconds, she obeyed, and they were curving over the structure. A downward spiral sent Harry in a daze until they were very close back to the ground. Struggling to hold his grip, Harry realized there was some small bulk in between two trees. Whatever it was sat on a stump and seemed to be moving. Motioning Malicia to go downward, they started to descend and finally reached the stump within a few feet. 

            "I'm getting off, Malicia, all right?" Harry said, but did not wait for her to respond. He dismounted as his broomstick continued to hover in the same spot. After checking on it a few times, he walked toward the stub and quickly knew what it was.

            "Hello, little fellow."

            A foot of green and purple iridescent scales glimmered back at him. Its tail curled up behind its back as it kneeled forward toward Harry. When it lifted its neck, a small, fist-sized head turned slightly, blinking its orange eyes and letting its tongue moved through the cracks of its lips.

            "Are you a pet of Hagrid's, perhaps?" Harry questioned knowing fully well it would not respond to him.

            Instead, the baby dragon extended two wings that were hidden inside its layered skin. The small, transparent white wings lifted its body a few inches, and then, it thumped its body back to the stump.

            "That was a good try. Um, am I s'posed to, well, do anything with you? Hagrid didn't really explain very well."

            Suddenly, the ground beneath Harry's feet started to shake. He started to lose balance for a few seconds until he grabbed onto the tree next to him. The baby dragon did not seem concerned in the least as it glared at Harry.

            "It was nice meeting you… I think I will be going back now. Should I bring you?" Harry asked to himself. "No, Hagrid would have told me to do that."

            With that said, Harry grabbed Malicia, jumped onto the broomstick and pushed off the ground as he had done before. As he ascended higher into the air, a thick cloud of red and black smoke could be seen over the expansive green leaves of the forest.

            "Malicia, do you see that?" Harry asked.

            Two red eyes appeared, peering to the right as much as possible.

            "Dragon smoke, Harry Potter. I have seen it before, sir. We shall see it closer, I presume, Harry."

            Without waiting for a response, Malicia jolted forward, swishing past the dense trees and barely missing the prickly tops of them. Harry's legs lost all feeling as he tried to kick the side of his Firebolt. 

Just when he was about to push down on Malicia, hopefully landing safely, they cleared the trees and found themselves hovering over a somewhat tiny open plain. Two huge creatures dwelled in the middle, one sleeping and the other eating.

"Incredible!" Harry shouted, watching the two adult dragons. "They must be the parents of the little fellow we just met. I wonder why they aren't with it right now."

Malicia was about to respond, but Harry heard another voice instead. A very unwelcome voice it was.

"What in the world are _you_ doing over here, Potter?" 

A Silverstar sparkled a few feet behind him. Draco Malfoy sat on top of it, dangling his feet and smiling at the sight of the dragons. He did not seem surprised or scared. Did he know about them? Harry hated it when others knew something he did not. 

"Why do you care, Malfoy? What are you doing here?" Harry snapped back.

A chuckle rang through Harry's ears as Draco zoomed in closer. "Catching trespassers like you. This land belongs to the Slytherins, and if I'm not mistaken," he paused and lifted his large shiny badge, "I am the Head Boy."

Harry rolled his eyes. "_Puh-leese_, like I care. Now if you don't mind, I have to be leaving."

"So soon, Potter? Scared that I may beat you?" Draco asked, smiling non-stop.

"At what?"

"A race from here to over there," he said and pointed toward the two dragons. "My superb Silverstar against your foolish Firebolt. "

At first, Harry was thrilled to have a chance to wipe that smirk off of Malfoy's face. However, with his Driveller, it seemed rather risky. After a few minutes of thinking, Harry responded.

"You're on, on the count of three. One, two," Harry began, but Draco jolted forward at incredible speeds. Harry had never seen such swiftness with the exception of players in the Quidditch World Cup. 

As Harry started to catch up to Draco, only a few feet away from his wavy Slytherin robe, he whispered down to his Firebolt.

"Malicia, don't do anything… dangerous. Okay?"

When it did not respond, Harry assumed it understood. Draco was now next to Harry, but he did not seem nervous at all.

"I suppose I should go a little faster, eh, Potter?" Draco said and pressed harder against his Silverstar. 

Copper colored sparks flew from behind him, and Malfoy was off at least a hundred feet ahead of Potter. There was no way he could catch up with him now. In a matter of minutes, Draco would reach the end and have another victory to torture him with.

"What the…" Harry said as his Firebolt suddenly zoomed forward, faster than Draco's Silverstar. In literally one second, he had crossed the end of the field and had beaten Draco.

"You used magic, didn't you, Potter?" Draco yelled as he approached Harry.

            "I swear I didn't," Harry said. Then, he looked down at his Firebolt, waiting for Malicia's face to appear.

            "And I thought you didn't cheat, Potter. I guess you're not as good as you claim to be." 

            Draco then turned around and flew off in the other direction. How did he beat a Silverstar? Harry knew it had to be Malicia using a spell; it was the only explanation.

            "Oh, I better get back to Hagrid. He'll be worried."

            Leaning against Malicia, Harry flew across the dragon field once again, turning his head slightly to view both dragons asleep. As he approached the wall to the Quidditch field, he caught sight of Hagrid who waved to him with both hands.

            "Hagrid!" Harry shouted as he landed, jumped off the broomstick and raced toward him.

            "Ya saw 'em, didn't ya?"

            Harry nodded. "What are they for? Don't tell me you've been keeping them hidden."

            Hagrid shook his head. "Nah, they are for, er, Charlie. He brought 'em all da way from Greece ya know."

            "Oh," Harry said as it started to make sense. "For his class… I have a question, Hagrid."

            "Anything."

            "Why was the baby dragon all alone?"

            Hagrid's eyes widened. "Baby? It hatched!"

            "Didn't you know?"

            "Nah! It was just a widdy-biddy egg a day ago. I better go check 'em out.  Ya go practice a while won't ya."

            At first, he was hesitant, not knowing whether or not Malicia would behave.

            "All right, Hagrid. I'll see you soon."

            And so, Harry mounted his broomstick, kicked off and was in the air again.

            "Malicia, wake up!"

            No response.

            "Malicia, this is your master." 

Harry didn't like saying this at all. It made him feel like Malicia was a servant. However, her entire face did not appear, just her lips. They opened wide and responded.

            "No."

            Harry's forehead crinkled. "What do you mean, 'no'?"

            Suddenly, the lips disappeared. The scenery around Harry turned into a silver blur as the wind pelted his face. They must have been going one hundred miles per hour. A sharp whistling pierced Harry's ears. 

            "STTOOOPPPP," Harry tried to say as the words echoed around him.

            Everything halted at once, and Harry flew forward off his broomstick. His whole body flipped into the air and started hurdling downward into the thick brush of trees in the Forbidden Forest.


	5. The Emerald Leaf

Chapter V: The Emerald Leaf

  


Harry's body tumbled downward, spiraling several times through the syrupy air. Fidgeting with his hands, Harry searched for his wand frantically. However, the ground came before he could think of anything.

            Brown mud softened the fall a bit more, but not enough. Rips in his skin caused maroon blood to trickle out of it. His smashed glasses lied ahead of him, and his scar was cut, letting bright red drip along the crease in his forehead. 

            His left arm seemed fine, and he could wiggle the right, but it was his legs that ached the most. As he forced himself to lift up his body, Potter knew his legs were either broken or badly bruised.

            "Where's my wand?" Harry muttered to himself. The surrounding forest was partially a blur. As Harry felt his robe with his soiled hands, he found a stick shaped object that could only have been one thing.

            "Lucidious!" Harry shouted, and the area around him became perfectly clear without his glasses on. "There. Now, if I could sit this way," he mumbled as he tried to move his body. 

            "Ah, no, no," he said then cringed his teeth at the stinging pain. "Almost," he continued, swiveling his hips around and dragging his injured limbs. "Now, what was that… Oh, yes." Harry lifted his wand and aimed it at his throbbing legs. "Limbiosa!" 

Yellow sparks flew from his wand and fell onto his legs. The cuts still remained, but there was no pain at all. "That will have to do." Harry, still shaken up a bit, got onto his knees; then, he stood up completely after two tries.

            Spotting his shattered lenses, Harry picked up his glasses and placed them in his pocket. He then looked around, making sure he didn't leave anything lying around for a centaur to pick up. 

            "What is that?" He asked himself.

            A dark green metal that looked like it was from a broken bottle peered out of the ground. Its edges were rough and jagged and seemed to have some sort of impression on them.

            Harry fell to his knees and started to dig it out with his hands. More dirt was pushed under the sensitive part of his nails as he struggled to get hold of the metal object. After a few tugs, he pulled out what looked like a metal leaf. It had a silver hoop at the top, perhaps for a chain to loop through, and it was exceptionally rusted. Harry flipped it over to find symbols he could not decipher yet looked familiar. 

            _Where did it come from?_ He wondered this as he dug a bit more. Maybe there were other ones. After a good ten minutes of digging, Harry's hands pulsated, and he stopped. Just as he was about to start walking toward Hogwarts, if that indeed was the right direction, a white mist rushed by him and disappeared as quickly as it appeared.

            "Who's there?" Harry asked loudly, looking about very carefully. However, it was clear that he was alone.

***

"Hermione!" Ron yelled up the staircase to the girls' dormitory.

            "Will you stop shouting," a second year girl said as she skipped down the spiraling stairs. "She's not there."

            Ron's face transformed into a shade of crimson. "What do you mean 'she's not there'? I didn't see her leave!"

            He rolled his eyes back and let out an aggravated growl. An idea suddenly popped into his head, and Ron raced toward Harry's duffel bag. After unzipping several pockets, he found a blank piece of parchment.

            "I swear I am up to no good," he said and little dots and then lines of ink appeared. He skimmed over the map and spotted one labeled 'Hermione Granger'. 

            "Figures," he said and left the Gryffindor Tower. 

            He raced past paintings that peered their eyes at him, and he skidded down corridors and stairs. Panting and sweating, Ron arrived at the library and spotted Hermione huddled behind piles of complicated book. But she was sitting next to someone. A guy…

            "Hermione!" Ron shouted as the librarian glared at him. "Oh, sorry, I forgot," he whispered and hurried over to the table. As he came closer, he recognized Fly.

            "Giving tutoring lessons?" Ron asked as he wiped off beads of sweat dripping down his nose.

            "Ron, you have excess perspiration. Why were you running?"

            Fly tended to ignore Hermione and Ron as he shoved a book in front of his face and pretended to read the upside-down lettering.

            "I can't find Harry _anywhere._ I went down to the Quidditch fields about thirty minutes ago to watch him practice—"

            "Slow down, Ron," she interrupted. "He was sent to practice at this time of day, alone?"

            He nodded. "Yes. Mera, that's a messenger fairy, requested it. But, that was over four hours ago. I thought he was just practicing a lot, but when I went there, I didn't find him or anyone else for that matter."

            Hermione sighed. "I wouldn't worry, Ron. I'm sure Harry just went somewhere else. Now, if you don't mind—"

            "Wait!" Ron shouted and heard the librarian's shush behind him. He reached into his pocket and dragged out the Marauder's map. Again he said, "I swear I am up to no good," and the figures started to form. Frantically, his eyes darted all around the page.

            "I can't find him," he finally said.

            Hermione grabbed it from his hands. "Let me see… You're right, Ron. Maybe he's at Hagrid's hut. Did you check there?"

            Ron shook his head. 

            "Then, I'd advise you if you are so worried to go look there."

            "You're not coming?" Ron asked.

            Hermione looked over at Fly and then said, "I am busy."

            After a few seconds, Ron coughed and turned around. "Yes, well I must go look for _my_ friend. I'm sure Harry is less important to you than your _boyfriend_ there."

            "Stop being so immature," Hermione said under her breath as Ron started to leave.

            "I heard that!" Ron shouted back.

            Suddenly, a flash of pink sparks flickered around Ron. The librarian was near by holding a wand and giving a terribly evil look. Ron gulped loudly and rushed out of the library toward Hagrid's hut. His legs hurried as fast as they could while his mind raced just as fast. His gut told him something wasn't right. _Who sent that messenger fairy?_ Ron wondered as he left the Hogwart's castle and raced across the somewhat tall grass.

            Hagrid's hut was not too far away_. Perhaps Harry is there or I'm worrying too much. _After looking around for a few seconds, Ron knocked on Hagrid's large door. It felt strange being there alone since so many times he visited with Harry and Hermione by his side.

            It took a minute before the door opened and a tired Hagrid looked him in the face.

            "Oh, what a pleasant su'prise, Ron," he said, motioning for him to go inside. As Ron entered, he immediately saw no sign of Harry. He sighed and looked over at Hagrid.

            "Ya seem disappointed."

            "Yes, well, I was looking for Harry. I haven't seem him ever since someone asked him to go to the Quidditch fields and that was over four hours ago, Hagrid."

            A very confused and concerned face appeared. Hagrid thought to himself for a while before answering slowly.

            "Ya mean… he ain't in de castle?" 

            Ron shook his head.

            "But, I, er… It was me who made Harry come te de fields." Hagrid then looked out his window and gulped to himself. "He was s'posed te practice while I, er, well." Hagrid paused and pointed to the blanket on the large chair. It moved about slightly, and a sliver of pointy bone stuck out.

            "That dere's Willy. I wanted te show Harry its parents… Oh, dear…"

            "What, what is it, Hagrid?" Ron asked anxiously.

            "Ron, what de ya see over dere?" Hagrid pointed to a spot over the Forbidden Forest.

            Ron got up from the table seat and rushed toward the square window. He squinted his eyes, trying to make out the shape of some sort of object hovering over the forest.

            "I'm not sure. Hagrid, hand me those binoculars," Ron said, familiar with Muggle items, having so many at home. He placed the lenses against his eyes and stared off at the object. "That's Harry's FIREBOLT!" He gasped and looked over at Hagrid. "Harry might be in big trouble."

            "I wonder why it just stopped like dat."

            Ron hummed to himself. "Because it's a Driveller."

            "Really?" he said, sounding quite happy actually.

            "You know what that is, then? And how dangerous it is?"

            "Well, I s'pose it could be… But they're real useful too. It ain't givin' Harry trouble, is it?"

            "Yes, it is! And since Harry's not riding Malicia," he paused. "That's the Driveller's name. Anyway, he probably fell! We must find him."

            "In da Forbidden Forest, Ron? Ya sure ya can handle it?"

            Ron looked back through the window then nodded his head. "For Harry, I'd do anything."

            "That settles it. But I gotta bring Willy."

            Ron rolled his eyes. "Fine, fine, let's hurry."

            The baby dragon squirmed a bit as it tried to escape from Hagrid's grasp. After Hagrid gentled caressed its head, Willy purred, curled up again and started to snore. Ron followed Hagrid outside the small home and crept toward the Forbidden Forest. As they entered it, the surroundings became black with their shadows blending in. Every snap of a twig perked Ron's ears thinking Harry was somewhere near by.

            "We better head toward Malicia," Ron stated, trailing right behind Hagrid. 

            "Good idea."

            It was much easier for Hagrid to spot the broomstick, being higher up than Ron of course. Every few steps Ron's shoes slipped off of him, getting encased in mud. However, he did not let this slow him down at all. Instead, Ron left his shoes behind and ran to catch up wearing the socks his mother knitted him.

            "Harry!" Ron yelled, hoping someone would hear him.

            "Er, I wouldn't shout if I were ya. Could bring some, er, unwelcome guests if ya know what I mean," Hagrid said, watching closely around him. Yet, it was very hard to see anything actually besides what was directly in front of them.

            "But if we don't yell to Harry, Hagrid, then he won't know we're here," Ron pleaded, finally catching up to the half giant.

            He gave a groan and turned around gradually. "Listen, Ron. I'm sure Harry is alive." He placed his large hands against Ron's shaking shoulders. "I promise ya we'll find him."

            "Don't make promises you can't keep, Hagrid. That's what my mum always tells me." 

            Ron looked down at his socks covered in leaves and then gawked at the object an inch away from his big toe. It was a silver box sticking halfway out of the ground with brown rust stains streaking throughout it. 

            "What do you think that is, Hagrid?" Ron asked, afraid to touch it and get shocked.

            It took the half giant a few seconds to realize what the young wizard was even talking about. He then peered over, grasped the box out of the ground with one heave and examined it carefully.

            "I don't know exactly. Open it."

            Hagrid tossed the box over to Ron who tried to open the box but it was jammed.

            "No, with ya wand!" 

            "Oh," said Ron and pulled out his hand-me-down wand. "Um, er… Let me try this…" He targeted the box and shouted, "Explosiosa!"

            Red flames shot out and burned the top of the box but did not open it.

            "Now that's not right at all… How about… Exdetachia!" 

            The chest flew to the ground and smashed open letting scraps of a dried substance fall over the ground. Shiny velvet layered the inside of the box but there was nothing else. Ron reached forward and scooped up the dried, dark red substance into his cupped hands. He smelled it and then looked over at Hagrid.

            "What is this stuff?"

            Hagrid grabbed Ron's wrist and twisted it closer to his face. Using his large thumb, he crunched the material into pieces and inspected it. 

            "That der is dried blood. Very old if I had te say too. Wonder what it was doin' in der."

            "Blood?" Ron asked with a disgusted face. He immediately dropped it and wiped his hands all over his robe. "Who in their right mind would put _that_ in a box?"

            "Beats me. But we betta go find Harry now."

            "Right, right."

            The two hurried through the forest and approached the opening where Malicia hovered over. On the ground was the body of a schoolboy lying completely motionless. Near him were crushed branches, twigs and mounds of dirt.

            "Harry!" Ron squeaked and rushed over to his side. He then started to pull on his robes and poke at his shoulders until moans were pushed out of his mouth.

            "You're bloody alive!" Again Ron yelled as a grin beamed across his pale white face.

            "Of course I am. Wait a… How did you find me?" Harry asked, rolling over slowly.

            "We just went to where Malicia hovered," Ron said and pointed up.

            Harry was pulled to his feet by Ron and Hagrid and blinked a few times as blood encrusted around his face. "How did I… I was awake just a while ago. I don't remember falling over."

            "Loss of blood most likely," Hagrid suggested. 

            Harry nodded. Just as his friends were about to walk with him, Harry looked up at Malicia and shouted,

            "Get down here, Malicia! Right now! This is Harry Potter, your master, so get down here this instant!" 

            The broomstick plummeted downward and fell into Harry's hands. Its face was not visible, but it had turned a shade of pink.

            "I'm ready now," Harry said and started to follow Ron and Hagrid. As he trotted, he heard the jingling of a metal object around his neck and under his robe. He reached down gently to find the emerald, leaf shaped medallion looped around his neck. 

            _How did it get there_, he wondered and continued walking back to Hogwarts, confused and aching.


	6. Dark Arts History

*Chapter VI: Dark Arts History

  


Slumping inside of the hospital wing, Harry cringed as Madame Pomfrey dripped a stinging potion across his wounds. 

            "You should be just fine," she said in a sweet voice. "Now, hurry off to bed. Classes start tomorrow."

            Harry jumped off and ran over to Ron who stood in the doorway.

            "And you, Mister Weasley! I better not be seeing any more of you!" Madame Pomfrey yelled as she scooted the boys away.

            They laughed to each other and hurried to the Gryffindor Tower. As they ran, Harry explained about the dragons he saw and how he raced Draco.

            "I know about the baby dragon," Ron said. Harry gave a mystified look back. "Hagrid named him Willy."

            "Oh, that was that thing Hagrid had wrapped up in the forest. I hope he gets to keep him," said Harry, and then, he continued about how he almost lost the race to Malfoy but his broom started to act up.

            "That thing is nothing but trouble. I think you should just get rid of it."

            "I guess you're right, Ron."

            "Of course I am, mate. Now, if I were you, I'd give it to Dumbledore. He could then give it to the Ministry of Magic, and you'd never have to worry about it again."

            Harry nodded as they approached the paintings guarding the Gryffindor common room.

            "Password, password, password?" the three little pigs asked at the same time.

            "Red Riding Witch," Harry said, and the door opened. "What do you think I should do with Malicia for tonight?"

            "Give it to Hermione. She could probably use some spell to shut it up permanently. Too bad I couldn't use that on her." Ron chuckled to himself as he headed off to bed. Harry instead went to the girls' side and shouted to Hermione.

            "Oh, you're here, Harry! Ron was looking for you!" she shouted back.

            "Yes, I know. I'll explain what happened to me tomorrow during breakfast. Could you, perhaps, look over Malicia for tonight?"

            Hermione yelled back, "Of course. Wait, why? What did she do?"        

            "Nothing. Well, something. Don't ask now. Please just take her away from me? Just this night, I promise you!"

            "Okay, leave it at the bottom of the staircase. I'll get it in a second." 

            Harry smiled and chucked the broomstick to the ground. He then ran off to the boys' side and up the stairs to his comfy bed. Sleep at last.

***

            "That's simply awful," Hermione said, extending the vowels in her speech. She chugged down some chocolate malt and began cutting into her green roots covered in sugary syrup.

            "The worst of it, I think, is that I won't have anything to use during games," said Harry as he reached his elbow across Ron's plate, smearing a ketchup-like substance onto his robe's sleeves.

            Hermione rolled her eyes. "Please, Harry. If you think that's the worst about having a Driveller, you're dead wrong. I'm glad you're getting rid of it."

            Ron was too busy staring at the Slytherin table to pay any attention to their conversation or the mounds of hash browns Harry was stealing. His eyes fixated on the long strains of shiny hair delicately falling on top the head of Miss Elise Wings. It wasn't until Harry waved his hand in front of Ron that he jolted back into reality.

            "Sorry, mate. I was just, well, thinking of classes."

            "Ha!" Hermione chuckled. "You, thinking about school? What a lame excuse, Ron. We know you have a crush on that Slytherin girl."

            Ron gulped loudly. "I, I do not!" His cheeks reddened and sweat trickled down his forehead. "Harry, tell her I DO NOT like any SLYTHERIN girl!"

            Silence was his reply as Harry tried very hard not to laugh. Instead, he moved over so Fly could sit down and join them for breakfast.

            "Good morning, gentlemen and my lady," he said in a very smooth and intriguing voice. Fly then gently grabbed Hermione's hand and gave it a kiss. She tried not to blush but sometimes it is uncontrollable.

            "Your what?" Ron asked after coughing out a chunk of what was left of his pancake.

            "She is a lady, Sir Ron. It is quite obvious. Hermione is actually helping me with my studies. I am not too good with basic Alchemy, and well, my lady here is good at everything."

            "Stop calling her your lady," Ron retorted back.

"If you wish," Fly responded. "It is just habit I am afraid. So, what is your first class today, Ron Weasley?"

"Today I have…" Ron had to look at his schedule. "History of the Dark Arts with, ugh, Professor Snape."

"Splendid. I also have that course."

"Goodie," Ron said and focused on squeezing a miniature orange onto his fork.

"Hermione, where will you be at?" Harry said in a more upbeat voice, trying to break tensions between Ron and Fly.

"I have N.E.W.T. Herbology first. Oh, that reminds me. I better get there early. I wasn't sure if I needed the third or fourth edition of the 'Lively Herbs for Wizards and Witches' book, so of course I bought both."

"Right. We'll see you around then," Harry said as Hermione left the table in a hurry. 

"Isn't she lovely?" Fly asked as he started to dig into his breakfast. 

Ron laughed. "If lovely means an irritating, smart-alecky know-it-all." 

Fly's mouth hung open. "I don't understand why you are so rude."

Harry wanted to reply 'because Ron likes Hermione obviously' but he couldn't do that. It would be very impolite and cruel and…

"Because Ron likes Hermione!" Harry shouted _extremely_ loud. The whole Gryffindor table and several people in the surrounding tables heard him.

"That's not, that's, that's…" Ron's face turned from white to red to a deadly purple. After squinting his eyes at Harry, Ron grabbed his books and ran off out of the Great Hall.

"Why did you do that, Harry?" Fly asked in disgust and bewilderment. 

"I, I don't know," Harry said in a low voice thinking to himself. He knew he wanted to say it but never would. Then again he just did it, hurting Ron and embarrassing the both of them.

***

            "Welcome to your first ever and required class, The History of the Dark Arts. Now, we will not be performing any spells so save your whining for another teacher who cares. I assume—" Snape began his speech but was interrupted by the slamming of his door.

            "Mister Ron Weasley? You are ten minutes late! 25 points from Gryffindor." 

            Ron's face was red and puffy, and his eyes were barely visible at all. He sat next to Fly and for a second peered over to Harry who was next to Neville Longbottom. How could Harry do such a thing? Did he hit his head that hard in the forest?

            "Where was I? Ah, yes, your books. I assume you read the History of Magical Wizards last year. We will be reviewing that for the next week and then move on to a more interesting agenda. Take out your parchments and write ten lines on how the ministries evolved and site a few cases that support your accusation." Snape stopped, walked down the isle to Ron and leaned over his desk. "I expect ten extra lines from you, Mister Weasley, explaining how tardiness was punished in the good, ancient days."

            Ron did not even look up to Snape; instead, he was too busy concentrating on the breakfast incident. Luckily, Hermione was not there to hear it, but what if she was? That would make things extremely awkward.

            "Psst, Harry," Neville whispered to the right of him. "Do you have a spare parchment?"

            Harry, his eyes off in a daze, mumbled something, reached into his bag and pulled out a few scrolls. He then tossed one to Neville and continued thinking to himself. _How can I fix this? Ron hates me now and most people worry about me as it is. I just want to leave, go home and see Sirius again. But I know he won't be there, at least in the physical world._

SNAP.

            "Mr. Potter!" Snape yelled after slamming his wand against Harry's blank parchment.

            "Yes, Professor?" Harry asked in a calm voice.

            "Maybe you misheard me, Potter. I said ten lines by the end of class. You have not written anything, anything at all. You read the book last year?"

            Harry nodded.

            "Good. Ten more points from Gryffindor! And I expect you to start writing or detentions I will start giving out."

            But Harry was not _too_ angry with him. He should have been doing his assignment in the first place. And then again, it was Snape, and he expected such cruelty from him.

            "I just want to leave," Harry mumbled in a low voice to himself but enough so Neville could hear.

            "You worried about your paper? I haven't gotten anything either," Neville responded, pointing at his blank parchment as well.

            SLAM.

            Snape jumped from his seat and looked around the room with his black eyes. Every head was on top of the desks and parchments, busily scribing.

            SLAM.

            This time the noise was much louder and coming from the door's direction. Carefully, Snape approached the door with his wand and turned the knob, perhaps expecting a monster of some sort. Partially, he was correct.

            "Malicia!" Harry shouted, watching his broomstick fly toward him and stop only inches in front of his nose. "I didn't call for you."

            "But, I heard Harry Potter. Harry Potter 'just wants to leave'," the broomstick responded.

            Snape's eyes widened as he ran over to the Firebolt and grabbed it away from Harry's face. 

            "Enchanted broomsticks are strictly forbidden, Mr. Potter! Is this how the Gryffindors have won so many Quidditch games? You put some sort of spell on your Firebolt? Answer me!"

            Harry's neck turned pink, and his face began to boil. _Why won't Snape just shut up?_ Snape had no idea it was a Driveller that only recently started to speak. But Ron did… If only he had said something before Harry did.

            "Shut up, Snape!" Harry shouted.

            "Excuse me? I must have misheard you this time. Did you just tell me to 'shut up'?"

            "Yes, and I'll do it again. Shut up, Snape!"

            All amusement from the classmates' faces drowned in paleness. They were all so shocked that Harry could do such a thing to Snape. Yes, he'd argue but not directly tell a teacher to shut up.

            "Fifty, no, seventy-five, no, one hundred points from Gryffindor! And a month's worth of detention, Potter! I do not know what game you are trying to play, but no one mouths me off!"

            Snape's nose now touched Harry's as he breathed heavily.

            "How could anyone mouth you off when you won't shut up!" Harry continued to yell, unable to control his wrath. Before Snape could take any more points away, Harry jumped onto Malicia, grabbed his bag and flew off, leaving his classmates behind.

            Snape gulped and turned to his class shaken up and sweat pouring off his brow. "Continue your work! I have a few issues to deal with… Mister Mal—" Snape stopped to realize Draco did not have this class that period of the day. He was so used to it that he didn't even check his roster. "I mean, Mister Schafly! You're in charge until the end of class. No one will leave until they are dismissed! Understood?"

            Whispers and then loud chatter followed their dozen nods. After Snape left the room, slamming the door, Fly got up and yelled,

            "Settle down, settle down. There is only one thing we all should be discussing now."

            Groans followed moans, as no one wanted to do any sort of class work now.

            "Of course, we will discuss… What the hell is wrong with Harry Potter?"


	7. Dumbledore's Discipline

*Chapter VII: Dumbledore's Discipline

  


THUMP.

            Harry's head smashed into a rounded figure's white robe. His agitated body tumbled off Malicia and onto the cold, smooth marble floor. As Harry looked up slightly, fixing his new glasses made for him the other night, he saw the towering elderly wizard that could have only been one person. 

            "In a hurry, Harry?" Dumbledore asked, extending his arm out to help Harry up to his feet.

            "Is Snape behind me?" Harry questioned slightly turning his head.

            "_Professor _Snape is in my office waiting for you. I advise you to tell me what has just happened."

            "I don't exactly know," Harry said truthfully. "I mean I know what I did. I yelled at Sna—, Professor Snape, in front of everyone. That was after Malicia showed up."

            Dumbledore ignored the comment about the argument with Snape. "Your Firebolt caused you much trouble yesterday I heard." Pointing to the statue up ahead, Dumbledore yelled to it, "Bellyless Beetledum." A spiraling staircase appeared, and the old wizard motioned Harry to follow him up it.

            "Tell me, Harry," he continued, "have you told any one about your Driveller?"

            "Ron knows and Hermione. Oh, Hagrid… And Draco knows it can do magic… And Snape heard it talk…"

            "I see. And I suppose you want me to take Malicia off your hands?"

            They now entered Dumbledore's dusty, cluttered office of books, potions and glass objects. As Harry trudged behind Dumbledore, he caught sight of a gold plated book lying on an oval table low to the ground. On the front was a pyramid in dark blue and a half moon rising behind it. Symbols stretched across the top. Wait, those symbols…

            Harry had completely forgotten about the emerald leaf. It still hung around his neck! Quickly, he reached for it and lifted it up slowly. Flipping it over, he looked at the nine symbols. Perhaps the book could translate it for him. Just as Harry tried to open it, a lock magically appeared that shut it tightly. Dumbledore turned abruptly to the noise and raised his right eyebrow.

            "Is there something in that book you wish to see?" He asked in a deep, yet monotone voice.

            "No," Harry lied. He gently put the necklace away under his robe and took a seat in front of Dumbledore's desk. 

            "Harry, I am not pleased with your behavior."

Just before Harry could respond to him, he spotted Snape slogging from behind a tall bookcase. His usual dull complexion had changed to a pallid and frightened one; perhaps it was because he never thought Harry would disrespect him in such a way, or perhaps it was something else… 

            "Since you have been accused of misconduct in the class of Professor Snape, it is only fitting that he give you your punishment," Dumbledore said not caring much about what Harry did at all.

            "But he has _already _given me punishment," Harry pleaded in a pestering, squeaky voice. "Gryffindor is well in the negatives, I will have homework for the rest of the school year, and I'm sure that Malicia will be taken away from me so I can't be on the Quidditch Team!"

            After hearing the name Malicia, Snape's face twitched and flinched. He seemed quite disturbed and tried to settle himself by jumping up and then walking toward Harry in a slow trot. 

            "Mister Potter," he hissed the letter s. "I am sure you have conjured an excuse to try to get out of this one, but nothing can explain why you were so insolent toward me and your classmates. Detention everyday until Christmas Break should suffice for now. You will be in my office at 8 o'clock until 10 o'clock making no sound whatsoever."

            Snape paused and looked over at Dumbledore who was playing with a crystal ball on his desk. And so, Snape continued. "Your enchanted broomstick…" He did not mention the name. "It will be confiscated."

            "But Harry did not enchant his Firebolt," Dumbledore interrupted.

            "Of course he did. His broomstick, well, can speak and listen apparently."

            Dumbledore nodded. "Yes, it does."

            "Isn't it obvious that the boy used his wand to enchant it!" Snape yelled.

            "No need to yell at me, Severus," Dumbledore said in a mellow voice. "Malicia here is a Driveller."

            Again, Snape flinched but persisted anyway. "A Driveller? Nonsense. They were all destroyed over five centuries ago. There are laws banning such things—"

            "If I may correct you," Dumbledore said and smiled. "In the late 14th century, a law was passed that stated that all Drivellers were to be found and destroyed by January 1st 1500. However, this particular broomstick must have escaped. And thus, the law does not apply to it since the law did not state anything about what happens after that date."

            Snape looked infuriated. "But, there must be someway around that. I believe I should bring this up with the Ministry of Magic. They may have a word to say about a Driveller!"

            Dumbledore nodded. "Yes, I quite agree. If you could do so, please bring Malicia now to them and schedule a date in which they can inspect and run tests on her. However, they have been backed up lately, and it may take, oh, three months before they can make a decision."

            At this point, Snape's face reddened and his hands shook, wanting to grab the broomstick and snap it across his knee. "Very well then. I will be back shortly. And you, Mister Potter, will be in my office starting tomorrow at 8 o'clock in the evening. Good day, Professor Dumbledore."

            And with that, he left the office with Malicia in his hands and a look of both resentment and concern. Harry turned to Dumbledore sighing and wiped his sweaty forehead.

            "Now, I shall give you my punishment," Dumbledore said as he sat down.

            "What? Didn't you hear what Snape just gave me? You want to give me more?" 

            He nodded. "Yes. It's quite simple actually. I want you to visit me every other day of the week during your lunch break to discuss how you are feeling and what you have done. I am not sure why you are so, how shall I say it, temperamental lately, but I do want it to stop. Whether you believe it or not, you are very fortunate, Harry. You have beaten death numerous times, defeated Voldemort and saved several students. Do not abuse your achievements but strive to achieve more."

            However, Harry was not listening to everything Dumbledore was saying. Instead, all he could think about was how much time he was wasting and how this school year would never end. His Quidditch practice was now replaced by two hours of detention. Lunch was being spent with a shrink. Neville, whose company was not terrible, replaced his best friend Ron. His usually content attitude was replaced with bitter ferocity…


	8. NEWT Herbology

  


Chapter VIII:   N.E.W.T. Herbology

  


The silence between Harry and Ron was not as awful as Harry thought it would have been. That night, Ron switched rooms with Neville so that he and Harry did not have to spend their nights near each other. As far as he knew, Hermione did not know what had happened and assumed it was just 'boy stuff'.

            In the morning during breakfast, Harry did not go to the Great Hall but instead asked Neville to bring back some food for him. He spent the morning doing homework that he had forgotten to do. That day, he had Potions 107 first, which was basically a remedial Potions class for a seventh year student. Snape had almost failed him the previous year, so he had to do the basics. He didn't mind though since his teacher was Flitwick. 

            After Potions, Harry a double of N.E.W.T. Herbology. He didn't really want any NEWT level course, but it looked good if you had some. Then, he would have his lunch break with Dumbledore, and then his favorite class with Charlie. Medieval Dragons was a new course and would only be offered for a few years or however long Charlie would be around.

            And so after Harry attacked his small breakfast that Neville had nibbled on the way to the Gryffindor Tower, he headed to the Potions room. As he walked inside, the first person he saw was Cho. He hadn't seen her in what seemed like an eternity even though he saw her in the hallways the other day. The last person he thought would be taking a remedial Potions class was Cho but there she was, sitting there all alone and staring into her notebook.

            Harry did not know what to say. They had stopped talking for most of their 6th year but never stopped completely being friends. He knew Cho always thought that he and Hermione were a couple; yet, that was never true at all.

            "Hello," Harry said in a tranquil voice. He placed his hand on Cho's desk and smiled politely.

            "Oh, Harry," she responded. "I heard what you said about Ron during breakfast yesterday."

            _Great,_ Harry thought, _now my chances are ruined. She probably thinks I'm a jerk when all I said was the truth!_

She continued. "Is it true that they're 'together' now?"

            Harry's face froze. It was probably a false rumor but a very good one for him. Harry nodded. "Yes. Ron has liked Hermione for a while. They've been on and off."

            She smiled. "So, if Ron's with Hermione, does that mean you and her aren't…" She trailed off, watching Harry's face closely.

            "Ah, never. We're just friends. I've told you that before. Didn't you believe me then?"

            "Well, of course," Cho lied. "Hey, now that we have a class together… Maybe we can study tonight?"

            _Is she asking me on a date?_ Harry asked himself. _Maybe. But wait, Snape and his stupid detention…_

            "I can't! I have detention from 8 to 10." 

            Cho seemed disappointed. "That's dreadful, but all right, another day then. Oh, here come our fellow students."

            Harry turned to watch a few Ravenclaw 7th years stroll in, two Slytherins (Crabbe and Goyle without their ringleader) and three Hufflepuff students. Behind them came Professor Flitwick. He jumped onto the desk, pointed upward with his wand and shouted, "Welcome! Let's skip the formalities and start making some potions!"

***

            After class, Harry walked Cho to her Magical Creatures class hosted by Hagrid of course. He desperately wanted to kiss her, but he got a hug instead. As they squeezed each other, Ron walked by with Hermione by his side staring at the two hugging. Luckily, Harry did not see them and was too busy thinking about how much he dreaded spending his nights with Snape.

            About ten minutes later, Harry found himself outside his Herbology room. Inside there were nine students who he did not know at all. They were all in other houses except for one, Luna Lovegood. Just as Harry was about to sit down, Draco Malfoy walked into the room wearing his shiny Head Boy badge and carrying his sparkling blue Silverstar in his hand.

            "Miss Lillifoot? Where should I place _my_ Silverstar?" He asked in an obnoxious voice. The short teacher with long red and blonde hair braided all over the place pointed to the corner of the room. She did not seem impressed at all by Malfoy, which pleased Harry very much.

            "Find a seat young man," she said to Draco.

            "Oh, Draco, there is a seat right here," Harry said, patting the seat next to him. _This will be perfect,_ thought Harry. If Harry had to suffer a class with Malfoy, he might as well make Draco suffer as well.

            Malfoy glanced around the room to find another seat. The only other empty one was next to Luna Lovegood, or rather Looney. It seemed as though Draco was willing to put up with her than Harry when he began to walk in the other direction.

            "Mister Malfoy! The boy here has offered you a seat! But a good lad and sit up here near me."

            Draco's eyes widened. He wanted to ignore his new teacher but knew he could not. After a few seconds, Draco sat down next to Harry and grabbed his parchment.

            "Now class, we shall start out our long time together with a basic quiz. I will assign each of you a partner. You will quiz each other using the questions I pass out by performing whatever task is given and identifying what you've made. The team that gets the most questions right will receive points for their houses. The team that gets the fewest questions right will lose points."

            Miss Lillifoot grabbed a stack of papers and tossed them in the air.

            "Are you mad?" Draco asked, watching the papers fly everywhere.

            "Perhaps," she responded and took out her wand. "Sedabitis!" 

            Suddenly, all the papers organized themselves in the air and fell in front of each student neatly stacked. The teacher smiled and turned to Draco.

            "You, Mister Malfoy, will be partnered up with," she looked around the room. As her eyes met Harry's, Harry shook his head and begged with his eyes not to be with Malfoy. He actually wanted points this time. "Luna Lovegood."

            "Ugh," Draco said and walked across the room to her.

            "Harry Potter," she said. "Well, actually… May I see your…"

            He already knew what she was going to ask. He lifted his hair covering his scar and leaned forward.

            "Amazing. Well, now, pick a partner," she told him.

            "Wait a minute! I didn't get to pick!" Draco yelled, hearing that Harry could chose whoever he wished.

            "Because you, Mister Malfoy, need to learn some manners! Next time you shout out I will deduct points."

            "That's not fair at all!"

            "Twenty-five points from Slytherin!"

            He was smart enough to shut up while he was ahead. After Harry chuckled a bit, he turned his head around the room and really did not recognize anyone. Suddenly, he got an idea.

            "Could you be my partner, Miss Lillifoot?" he asked.

            "Well, I would really like you to pick a classmate."

            "But we have an uneven number anyway. Either that or I'd have to pair up with another group."

            Lillifoot thought to herself and fiddled with her plaid overall button. "All right. Find a group you would like to work with. Hurry up now."

            Harry smiled. He knew just whom he would partner up with. He got up quickly and raced to the opposite side of the room. Then, after tapping the shoulder of Draco, Harry said, 

            "Hey, Draco, buddy! I'm joining your group here!"

            Malfoy sneered. "What? Fine, sit down, Potter. Wait, why would _you _want to be my partner?"

            Harry thought quickly of a response. "I'm sorry Draco, but I must confess that you are rather brilliant, and I need your help." He tried not to laugh.

            "About time," Draco said. "Now, I'll quiz you first. Using a…" Draco looked up.

            "Continue please."

            "Using a broomstick in the room, sweep the floor and sills of dust and dirt. Collect enough to fill up a teaspoon. Then, mix it with the water provided. Add a drop of liver oil at the end. Once completed, you will identify the mixture you made and what plants it would benefit."

            Harry grinned. There was a stack of ugly broomsticks in the corner used for sweeping, and then, there was the Silverstar. Harry got up and motioned toward the ugly ones. At the last second, he grabbed Draco's Silverstar.

            "What are you doing?" Draco yelled across the room. "Miss Lillifoot! He's taking my Silverstar! Stop him!"

            "Actually, Miss Lillifoot, your directions clearly state to use _a broomstick_. This here is a broomstick," Harry said smugly.

            "Harry is correct. I did not specify which broomstick."

            Draco's face dropped. Harry smiled back at him and started to sweep the floor with Draco's Silverstar. At this point, the class started to notice and laughed hysterically.

            "Look there! Draco's Silverstar is nothing more than an ordinary sweeper!"

            "Shut up!" Draco yelled with his blue eyes jutting out.

            When Harry collected enough dirt, he used the tail end of the broomstick as a dustpan to lift up it up. He then piled the dusty soil into a beaker and dropped the Silverstar on the table. The end of it cracked a little and was vulgarly scratched.

            "There we go! I collected everything," Harry said. "Now for the water and liver oil…"

            "You, you," Draco stuttered, "You broke my Silverstar! You broke, you broke…" He then picked it up and started petting the scratched up end of it.  For a second, it seemed Malfoy was going to cry.

            "The mixture's done, Miss Lillifoot!" Harry yelled. The teacher walked to him, picked up the beaker and nodded.

            "Tell me, Mister Potter. What is it and what does it do? Actually, better yet, Mister Malfoy, you answer since you seem so dedicated to my class."

            Draco turned, placing the Silverstar on his lap. "What?"

            "Yes, I see you are paying much attention. Twenty-five more points away from Slytherin. Now, you, Luna, I hope you can answer me."

            Luna smiled. "That there is called Loamywood, and it is used on both billnuckel vines and devil snare to nourish its roots."

            "Very good!" Lillifoot yelled. "Fifty points for Gryffindor. Now, there are two more questions. Carry on."

            Harry beamed and stretched his lips upward so all his white teeth could stick out. He was so incredibly happy, so incredibly happy that Draco was suffering this time, and he was not. 

            "Ah," Harry said, grabbing the emerald pendant. It was very chilly and numbed his chest. 

            "What's the matter?" Luna asked.

            "Nothing. Just chest pains."

            "You should go to the hospital wing."

            "No!" Harry hissed back, his eyes a very dark and deep blue. "No…"

            He swallowed and took several breaths. After a minute, he felt normal again. Harry continued on with his quiz, wondering only briefly why his pendant was so cold. _It was nothing,_ a voice in his head told him. _Nothing._


	9. Charlie's Caste

          Chapter IX: Charlie's Caste

Herbology ended, and Harry had earned one hundred points for Gryffindor. If that wasn't great enough, the Slytherins lost seventy-five points due to Draco's outburst.  Instead of eating lunch, Harry had to go and visit Dumbledore for his shrink session. He arrived about five minutes late, but fortunately, Dumbledore was not in his office.

            "Wonder where he is," Harry mumbled to himself. 

_This is an opportunity to look at the symbol book_, he thought. _Look at it… _And so, Harry crept over to the stool and lifted the gold, thick book. As he opened the front cover, he felt a sharp, cold, piercing pain in his chest.

            "Ah," he said but tried to steady his hands. Before he could read anything, a blinding cobalt light hit him in the eyes. But it did not come from the book. It did not from the emerald leaf pendant…

            "I am sorry but that book is strictly forbidden," Dumbledore's voice echoed across the room. His wand pointed at Harry until he gently put it away in his robe.

            "But, what's in it?" Harry asked, knowing that he could not get that answer.

            "There is nothing in there that should interest you. Now, we shall spend the next forty minutes talking."

            Harry sat down in the comfy black seat and waited for Dumbledore to speak first. However, he did not. For forty minutes, neither of them talked at all. When the miniature clock on the wooden desk rang, Dumbledore motioned for Harry to leave. Right before he left the room, the Professor said,

            "If I may give you a word of advice, dear Harry. Anger can be controlled but actions from anger can never be erased."

            Harry's back faced Dumbledore, so when he rolled his eyes, the old wizard did not see him. 

            "May I go now?" 

            But Harry did not wait for a reply at all and left the room. He rushed down to the Quidditch fields where the Medieval Dragons class was being held. As the great field came into sight, Harry saw both Ron and Cho standing next to each other but apparently were not talking. Yet, where were the dragons? He didn't even see Charlie anywhere. Harry rushed toward Cho, and when he got there, he slightly tugged on her sleeve to pull her away from Ron.

            "I didn't know you took this course," Cho said excitedly.

            "Yeah, I do. I even saw the dragons earlier."

            "Really? There are dragons near here?"

            Harry nodded. "Right over the walls actually. Maybe we'll get to see them. But wait, I don't have my broomstick anymore."

            Cho frowned. "Oh, no! Will you try out for the team then this year?"

            Harry paused. He didn't know if he would be allowed to try out in the first place. "We'll see," he replied and turned his head slightly to see Ron staring at him. He immediately snapped his neck back to face Cho.

            "Where is the teacher?" she asked and looked about.

            "I don't—"

            Just as Harry was about to respond, a dark shadow darkened over them all. As they murmured, a few students looked up to see a gigantic dragon flying over them. A girl screamed, but it was not Cho. Actually, she seemed quite exultant to see the dragon. And on top of the dragon was Charlie, riding it like a professional and wearing a rather elegant flying contraption.

            "Hello, Hogwarts' students!" Charlie shouted as he yanked on black cords tethered to the beast's fat neck. There was a loud clamor when the dragon landed. Charlie jumped off and beamed his great smile.

            "I am very proud to introduce you all to Augustus," he said and pointed to the dragon. "Now, for ten points, who can tell me what kind of a dragon he is? Come on, any one?" 

            Ron raised his hand.

            "Yes, Mister Ron Weasley?"

            The class chuckled; most of them knew the two were related. Ron gulped and slowly responded.

            "That's a Grecian Golden Horn."

            Charlie nodded, "_Very_ close! 10 points to Gryffindor! It is a Grecian Yellow Horn, but the difference between that and a golden horn is that this dragon here is a male. The females have golden ones."

            Ron grinned as a fellow Gryffindor patted him on the back. They needed all the points they could get after Harry lost so many within the first two days of school.

            "How many of you have flown on top of a dragon?"

            Harry raised his hand.

            "Oh, yes, we all know about you, Harry. But anyone else?"

            _Don't I count?_ Harry thought. _I can show them all how to fly. Why is Charlie ignoring my abilities just like everyone else?_

"Excuse me, Charlie but I know a great deal about dragons seeing how I was in the Triwizard Tournament!"

            "Harry, please call me Mister Weasley while I am teaching this class. And, we have all seen your skills. I would like someone else to demonstrate if you don't mind."

            _But I do mind, I really do!_ _Why is it that when I can show some good that I am not allowed to at all? And I thought Charlie was the cool Weasley… I guess there aren't any then._

"Anyone else?"

            Harry glared at the class. No one was raising his or her hand. After a good thirty seconds, Harry raised his hand again. However, Charlie completely ignored him.

            _How dare he! I am not invisible!_ Harry yelled in his head. _I am right here, you bastard!_

            Suddenly, Augustus lifted off the ground, spreading its wings out a dozen feet and swishing them hard in the air. Large gusts of winds knocked students to the ground. Its tremendous body hovered in the air while it continued to pelt the class with heavy wind. 

            "Hold on to something!" Charlie yelled. 

As he tried to get his wand it, it flew off into the air. Students starting screaming, and a few were almost swept up into the air. Harry dug his feet into the ground and was only swaying a bit. He turned his head to where Cho was, but she was no longer there.

            "Cho?" Harry said to himself. He looked around him but didn't see her anywhere.

            A high-pitched scream alerted Harry as he turned his head upward. There, in what almost looked like a tornado, was Cho. However, Harry was still livid with Charlie. _If he had let me demonstrate to the class, then this wouldn't have happened!_

"Harry! If you have your wand, please do something!" A familiar voice yelled in his ear. It belonged to Ron who was only a meter behind Harry holding onto his brother Charlie.

            _I really should help her,_ Harry said in his mind. _But this is Charlie's fault. HE should do something. Why do I have to ALWAYS save the day? _

            And so Harry stood there watching Cho frantically trying to get her wand out. She spun in circles until Augustus decided to come back down. When he did, the tornado stopped, and Cho fell downward, plummeting without any way to stop it. She smacked into the ground rapidly. She didn't move… Didn't move at all…

            "Ron, Harry, take her to the hospital wing, now! I will check to see if anyone else needs to go," Charlie said and hurried around the damaged Quidditch field.

            Harry ran over to Cho. "Are you alive?" he asked in an uncaring tone.

            Ron looked over at Harry and then Cho. "We better pick her up gently. I'll get her feet. You get her shoulders."

            Harry ignored Ron completely. He grabbed Cho's body, swung it over his shoulder and walked off. Ron ran after him and caught up to him when they were inside the building.

            "Harry, wait up! Why didn't you do _anything_ out there?" he asked. He didn't seem irritated at Harry at all but more troubled.

            "I panicked," Harry lied. They picked up the pace and arrived at the hospital wing within a minute. When they entered, Madame Pomfrey grabbed Cho and placed her on a bed.

            "How did this happen?" she asked in a shrill voice.

            "Ron, you explain," Harry ordered and walked off. Ron complied and stayed with Madame Pomfrey, trying to sort out all the details correctly.

            As Harry left, he decided not to return to the Quidditch Fields. _Class should be over soon anyway,_ he thought. Hopefully Charlie wouldn't get suspended due to this petty incident. Besides, it was an accident. Augustus was just showing off. 

            Deep down inside, Harry hoped Cho would be all right. However, another part of him, a much darker, more sinister part, wanted her to die. But why? Why did he have such dark thoughts? Sometimes he just wanted to strangle people that made him mad. It's normal to have fantasies but about hurting other people? Those weren't fantasies at all.


	10. Shadows of the Past

Chapter X: Shadows of the Past

From about four o'clock until 8 o'clock, Harry locked himself in his room and did two hours of NEWT Herbology, one hour of Potions and another hour of the Dark Arts History homework. He had about four minutes until he had to be in Snape's office.

            And so, Harry grabbed his wand, bag of parchment and his glossy black Dark Arts book. He headed down the stairs into the common room where he passed by Ron. Just as Harry was about to leave, Ron said,

            "Look, I understand why you yelled at Snape. He deserves it most of the time. But, I still don't understand why you announced to everyone who you think I like."

            _This is not a good time to be asking questions,_ Harry thought. _But, I will not burst out, I will not burst out…_

"We can have a long talk later, Ron. I'm late as it is for detention with Snape."

            "Oh, I see. I don't want to be bothering you then, Almighty. Good night, _King_ Harry."

            Usually, Harry would make a funny comment back and everything would be peachy after they laughed about the whole thing, but there was no time for that. Harry ran out of the common room and down the corridors as fast as he could. Twenty-one seconds until it was o'clock! He had to run faster.

            "You're just on time," said Snape who stood outside the doorway. Harry looked at him with slanted eyebrows as he tried to catch his breath. Snape then stepped out of the way so Harry could enter the room.

            "Sit down, Mr. Potter. Right in the front."

            Harry tossed his bag on the table and slumped his body down without care. 

            "You will do one hundred lines about why I am such a _horrible_ teacher."

            Harry looked up slightly in surprise.

            "Yes, you heard me, but you must back up your answers! I will be grading it."

            "Are you sure?" Harry asked, knowing fully well he'd write some pretty cruel stuff.

            "Yes, now begin."

            Snape sat in the front desk grading papers and frowning at the moronic mistakes that were made. And every few seconds he would laugh and mumble to himself. 

Harry pulled out blank parchment and his ink feather. He began writing everything that came to his mind without much thought to paragraph structure. The word 'bastard' appeared at least five times within the first paragraph. It only took thirty minutes for him to write the whole thing. Harry felt a bit better afterwards and looked up to see that Snape was still grading things and completely ignoring him.

            _I can't leave; I have no other work to do… I guess I'll just start sleeping…What if Snape sees me and gives me more detention? No, that won't do…_

Harry just sat there, staring off into nothingness. He shifted his chair over at an angle so he could look out the window. The Forbidden Forest was in view, and he looked carefully to see if there was anything interesting going on. Ever since Hagrid's little brother died last year, Hagrid did not mentioned him once. It was about six months or so ago when the terrible act occurred. But that was in the past…

            A sudden chill covered Harry's chest that was extremely cold and striking him very hard. Harry reached down inside his robe and lifted the pendant he had found earlier. Its green color was now incased in white frost, but he had no idea why. Just as Harry was about to try to take off the necklace, his mind felt numb. The classroom disappeared around him, and everything became slow. 

Blackness surrounded him, but Harry knew he was not unconscious. He heard muffled voices, but he could not recognize what they were saying. Actually, he wasn't even sure if they were human or not.

_ Where am I? It's so very cold here…What was that? _Harry felt a breeze rush by him, and then a flash of green light surrounded him, filling his eyes and blinding him completely. All he saw was bright green. For a brief second he swore he saw a figure of man standing over something. It could have been a log or a broom or a person…

"Daydreaming, Mr. Potter?" 

Snape's voice pulled him out of the strange world. He had not left the classroom. Where had he gone then? Harry blinked his eyes a few times and rubbed them. He was seeing in shades of green and blue.  

"Not exactly."

Snape sneered. "It is ten o'clock. You are free to go."

Harry grabbed his bag and jolted toward the door. He did not want to wait and hear if he had more detention due to his 'daydreaming'. But wait, what about his Firebolt? He almost forgot to ask.

"Professor Snape, where is my Firebolt?"

Snape walked toward Harry and smiled. "The Ministry has taken it for now. I do not know when or if you will get it back."

Harry's heart sank. That meant he could not try out for the Quidditch Team. Or if he did, he'd have to use the school's brooms. It was not fair.

"It's late. I'd better walk you to your tower," Snape suggested as he moved outside the doorframe tugging Harry along.

"But, you're a Slytherin. You can't go into the Gryffindor Tower!" Harry pleaded, not wanting anyone to see him with Snape at 10 o'clock at night.

"I will not go into your dormitory... But to insure you do not cause trouble, I have promised Professor Dumbledore to escort you each night." Snape paused and observed the disgusted face belonging to Harry. "Don't you think I would rather leave you locked up somewhere? Back in my day, punishment was just that, a punishment."

"And my father always punished you," Harry said, then immediately he covered his mouth with cupped hands. _Why did I just say that? _

            "Listen here, boy," Snape bawled, grabbing Harry's shoulders. "You will never, ever speak about my past. And if you do, you shall find worse punishment yet. Do _I_ make myself _clear_?"

            Harry nodded. "Yes, loud and clear."

            Snape tugged Harry's robe that he wrinkled and approached the Gryffindor painting. The three little pigs were asleep and completely ignored the presence of a Slytherin Headmaster.

            "Same time, same place, Mr. Potter," Snape said as he was leaving.

            "I can't believe him," Harry muttered as he stepped in front of the painting. "Red Riding Witch!"

One pig awoke. It opened one eye slightly, snorted and waved its left hoof somewhat. The door opened, and Harry rushed inside to find Ron sitting on the couch. He was pretending to do homework but obviously was not.

"Ron," Harry began, "how's Cho?"

Ron smirked. "She's doing better than before. Harry, I want to know the truth."

"Truth?" 

"Yes, the whole truth."

"About what?"

"First off… Do you like Hermione?"

            Harry laughed at the question. "Of course, as a friend, Ron. Nothing more than that."

            "All right. Why did you tell everyone I liked her?"

            "Because you do."

            "I do not."

            "Really?"

            Ron hesitated. "Maybe. But that doesn't give you the right to tell others. I don't understand what has gotten into you lately. Ever since Malicia tossed you into the Forbidden Forest, you've been acting strange. Really strange, mate."

            _At least I'm his mate again. _Harry laughed to himself, and as he was about to respond, he felt the coldness again. This time though, it lasted only for a second.

            "What? Why did you just flinch now?" Ron asked, knowing something was wrong.

            "It's nothing!" Harry yelled back.

            "No, let me look. Are you having heart problems? 'Cause you keep grabbing your chest. It's nothing to be ashamed of, Harry. If there's any problem at all, you must—"

            "I mustn't do ANYTHING!" a very deep voice came out of Harry's mouth. His eyes changed to a royal blue, and his hands began to shake just like they had done before.

            "Holy smokes! Blimey, you don't need to shout. How did you change your eyes? They seem darker somehow." Ron reached forward as if to touch them, but Harry snapped back and covered his eyes with his right hand. His left hand clutched his emerald pendant.

            "What is that? Let me see it!" Ron shouted and tried to grab the leaf from Harry's grasp. As they struggled, both of them tumbled to the ground. Ron was on top of Harry, and then, Harry was on top of Ron. They kept switching back and forth until Harry finally smacked Ron across the face with his fist.

            Just as blood started to trickle from Ron's nose, Ron punched Harry back, right at his gut. Harry rolled over to his side to gasp for air, and when he did, he briefly loosened his grip on the pendant. Within a second, Ron snatched it and stared at it closely.

            "What in bloody hell is this?" Ron asked, examining it closely. He didn't recognize the symbols; but the leaf was _very_ cold. "Has this been bothering you? It's hurting you! I know it! Whatever it's doing, it better be destroyed. End the madness now, Harry."

            Before Ron could do anything, Harry had crawled to his knees and grabbed the pendant back. He placed it on his neck, and a surge of energy flew through his body. Harry now had his wand pointed at Ron's head. His hand quivered terribly, and his eyes were almost black. Who was this boy? It was not Harry at all, not the Harry that Ron knew.

            "You will do nothing," Harry hissed and steadied his hand a bit. "I'm sorry, boy."

            "What are you doing?"

            "I'm sorry but you went too far. I can't let you destroy that."

            "Why? What power does it have over you? It's just a green hunk of jewelry."

            "That's where you're wrong. It is much more than that. It is a keeper of life. And if you destroy it, the life dies as well."

            "What life? What are you talking about?"

            But Harry continued to point his wand at Ron. "This must be done." Harry took a deep breath and shouted in a much deeper voice than before. "Obliviate!"

            Light flew from Harry's wand, and Ron fell back to the floor hard. His eyelids were completely shut, and he did not move.

            "With his memory gone, he can tell no one about us," the same voice emerged from Harry that did not belong to him at all. It was a man's voice but whom? Harry looked around the common room and placed Ron's body on the couch. He gently moved his head on top of a scroll.

            "Good night, boy," the voice said. 

***

            The next morning, Harry awoke to the scream of Neville Longbottom. He ran down the stairs to find Ron lying on the couch motionless.

            "What happened?" Harry asked innocently.

            "I, I don't know! I found him here!" Neville said in a panicking voice. "Is he," he gulped, "dead?"

            Harry checked Ron's pulse. It was faint but still there. "He's alive. You better call Madame Pomfrey to take him to the hospital wing. He may have had a relapse from his old injuries."

            _This is very odd,_ Harry thought. _I don't remember going to bed the other night. The last thing I remember was fighting with Ron on the ground. I, I punched him really hard. But that's all… What happened afterward? Why can't I remember?_

"Harry!" Neville yelled. "Madame Pomfrey will be here as soon as she can. Want me to stay with him?"

            Harry nodded. "I'll stay too." 

            He didn't want to leave until he figured out what happened to him the other night, but his mind was fuzzy. Even simple things such as what classes he took the other day seemed distant, as if they happened several years ago.

            "Mister Weasley! My word," Madame Pomfrey exclaimed as she entered the room. She checked for Ron's pulse and examined his body quickly.

            "He is unconscious. But what caused this? Do you two know anything about this? And this blood… He was bleeding recently."

            Harry knew about that, but if he told her that he was fighting with Ron, Madame Pomfrey would think he was the one that hurt Ron. _I couldn't have done that, could I? I mean, I could have but did I? _Harry asked to himself.

            "It seems you two are useless. Ah, here is the stretcher. Mister Longbottom, you are requested by Albus Dumbledore. He stopped me on the way here to tell you that."

            "What? But I'm not dressed… All right, I'll go now. I wonder what he wants."

            After Neville left the room, Pomfrey turned to Harry. "Mister Potter. I see you have a tear in your robe. Care to explain why you seem all ruffled up, and Mister Weasley here is unconscious?"

            Harry shook his head. "I honestly do not know how Ron got that way. I can tell you that I look ruffled, because I just woke up you know."

            Pomfrey didn't seem satisfied at all. However, she nodded and helped Ron onto an invisible stretcher. Ron's body floated in the air, and he was taken out of the room quickly. Harry stood there flabbergasted. 

            _Oh know,_ Harry thought. _I'm going to be late for Snape's Dark Arts History class! _And with that he got dressed and ran off to class, trying to forget about the visions he had in detention, the dragons, and Cho and the brawl with Ron.


	11. The Return

Chapter XI: The Return

  


            "Mister Potter, you are early," Snape said as Harry entered the Dark Arts History room, placed his bag down and sat, not saying a word to Snape. "I have some regrettable news," he continued anyway. "It seems your Driveller will not talk for the Ministry. They have sent it back. You are free to use it; HOWEVER, if it talks once or does anything out of the ordinary, even for a wizard school, it will be destroyed."

            At least Harry was hearing some better news than before. Snape placed Malicia who was wrapped up in cloth down on the desk. There was at least ten minutes before class would officially start. 

            "Professor," Harry said calmly, knowing any hint of attitude would result in him not getting Malicia back at all.

            "What is it?"

            "Ron will not be in class today."

            "Why not?"

            Harry hesitated and decided not to lie about it. "He was found unconscious this morning with blood on him. I'm not sure how he is doing."

            "I see. Are there any other friends of yours missing class today?"

            "Actually," Harry said, "Cho is still in the hospital wing. There was an incident in the Medieval Dragons course yesterday. And, oh, Neville may be late."

            Snape seemed uninterested about Cho. Perhaps he already knew about her. "Where is Mister Longbottom?"

            "Dumbledore called for him. I don't know what for though."

            Snape nodded and continued shuffling papers. He tossed a scroll at Harry. It was his essay that he did the other night in detention. The letter P appeared, meaning Poor.

            "Care to explain why you got that grade?"

            Harry looked up. _Do you really want me to answer that? I gave him the truth in that paper. He's just too arrogant to accept it._

"Poor grammar, poor paragraph structure and poor understanding, right?" Harry answered sarcastically.

            "You are partially correct for once." 

            But before Snape could continue, Fly entered the room along with several other students. They started to take their seats and take out scrolls of homework. 

            "Everyone, settle down. I'm sure the rumors about Mister Weasley are spreading like devil snare; yet, I have a class to teach. If anyone starts talking when I am doing so, you will be joining Mister Potter in late night detention!"

            After that, no one made a sound. The class went pretty smoothly. For once, Harry was able to keep quiet and actually read a chapter in the Dark Arts History book. He didn't learn anything new though, because most of the information was about Voldemort and the Death Eaters. 

            Once class ended, Fly pounced his hand onto Harry's back and smiled widely. "Quidditch Team tryouts have been moved up to tomorrow! Of course you'll be there Harry, right?"

            Harry nodded and waved his covered Firebolt. "Yes. I don't think Cho or Ron can make it though."

            "Ah, yes, I heard about what happened to them. Very odd you were near both of them when it happened," Fly said in a devilish voice. "But I'm not accusing you of anything."

            "Right… Is there anything else, Fly? I really should go visit Ron."

            "Actually, there is. Do you know Elise Wings?"

            "Isn't she that Slytherin girl?"

            Fly bobbed his head. "Yes. Well, she hasn't been talking to me at all lately."

            "We've only been in school a few days."

            "Yes, I know. I mean, lately as in since we packed our bags from the old school. We had a fight then and broke up."

            Harry laughed while Fly looked glum. "You went out with a Slytherin?"

            "We weren't even in Hogwarts yet! But that's not the point. I know she's trying out for the Quidditch Team and the Slytherin House has theirs today. I was wondering… Could you give her this note for me?"

            "Why can't you do it yourself?"

            "Because, just because. Please, Harry? I'll be in your debt."

            "Fine, give me it quickly."

            Harry shoved the piece of yellow parchment folded up nicely into his robe pocket. He then grabbed his bag and Malicia and ran off to the hospital wing. Hopefully, Ron would be okay. He tried hard not to think about their fistfight, but Harry really couldn't help thinking about it.

            "May I come in?" Harry asked after he knocked on the hospital door.

            Madame Pomfrey was on the opposite side of the room kneeling over a boy sitting in the lotus position on the chair. After Harry stepped into the room, the boy's face became clearer, and he realized it belonged to none other than Neville Longbottom.

            "Are you all right, Neville? What's wrong?" Harry asked. _What did Dumbledore tell you? Or maybe Ron died... Or Cho…_

"Harry? Is that you?" Neville sniffled. "Oh, it's awful. They're dead!"

            For the first time in a while Harry felt concerned for Ron's well being and Cho's. His eyes widened, and his cheeks grew pale. "Who died? Ron? Cho? Who, Neville, who?"

            "No, no, no… My grandparents… I knew they were ill and all. You knew too of course. That was the only reason I was staying with you and Hagrid. But, I didn't really expect them, so soon…" Neville started to cry again, his tears thick and streaking down.

            Harry felt a little guilty, because he was truly happy that it was not Ron or Cho. He didn't even feel sorry for Neville; he was too busy thinking about other things.

            "I see… Madame Pomfrey, may I see Ron and Cho?"

            "Of course, my dear. They are over there," she pointed to the two beds off in the corner. Harry nodded and headed over in that direction. His stomach started to twist and hands shook tremendously.

            "Oh, Ron," Harry said, looking over the completely still body. He was alive but unconscious. The bed next to Ron's belonged to Cho's; however, she was not still at all.

            "Harry, I'm so glad to see you," she said in a sweet voice. Her face was red and hair all straggly. Blankets covered most of body, but Harry could tell she had a mending cast on her arm.

            "I guess you won't be trying out for Quidditch this year," Harry said glumly.

            Surprisingly, Cho laughed. "No, not like this. But it's okay, really. I needed to focus on schoolwork anyway. As you know, I am failing Potions, and I'm not doing too well in my other courses."

            "I'm sorry. I didn't know. Well, I can't stay long. I need to go to class."

            Cho smiled and lifted her left hand. "Could you hold my hand? I know this sounds strange, but I need to know I am still alive."

            Harry grabbed her hand and squeezed it hard. "Feels alive to me. Now really, I must go. Feel better."

            Without hugging or kissing her, Harry left the room and ran off to the remainder of his classes. The day went by rather quickly. He didn't have to visit Dumbledore that day. It was only required every other day or so. During lunch, Harry had to explain several things to Hermione. He was careful enough not to mention his fist fight with Ron or that Ron liked her. Fly couldn't help it but talk about Elise, which seemed to bother Hermione a bit.

            After Harry's last class, he headed toward the Quidditch fields. There, he saw Draco, Crabbe, Goyle and a few other Slytherin faces. In the crowd of people gearing up to try out was Elise. She was busy chatting with Draco who constantly showed her his Silverstar.

            "Excuse me, Elise Wings?" Harry asked after tapping her right shoulder.

            Draco pushed Harry backwards and yelled, "A Gryffindor! A Gryffindor!"

            Five Slytherins turned their heads and started chattering loudly. Elise, however, grabbed Harry's arm and helped him to his feet. Harry then presented her with the note.

            "Oh, it's not from me. It's from Fly."

            Elise blushed and placed the note into her robe pocket. "Thank you, Harry Potter."

            Before Harry could turn around to leave, he felt the sharp blow from a broomstick end smacking him in the face. He grabbed his bruised forehead and looked up at Draco.

            "I hope my head didn't scratch your stupid Silverstar," Harry mumbled.

            "Speak up, Potter. I didn't hear you right, and I don't think your girlfriend did either."

            Harry rolled his eyes. Draco was obviously referring to Elise whom Harry had no real interest in. "Did you forget your hearing aid again? Your mother keeps telling you to wear it, Draco."

            Crabbe and Goyle, the two leeches standing in front of them, chuckled loudly. Draco spun around and started cursing at them, calling them strings of slurs and foul names. As he did this, Harry waved goodbye to Elise and headed off the field with his Firebolt still in his hands. _I better get to my homework before_ _detention. I'm sure Snape has figured out something to do with me then._

            After several hours of homework, Harry rushed to detention where he surprisingly found Snape staring into a crystal ball. It was the same crystal ball that had been in Dumbledore's office the other day.

            "Am I disturbing you?" Harry asked.

            "Always, Mister Potter," Snape said still concentrating on the ball. "Come over here."

            Harry placed his things down and hurried over. "What are you doing?"

            "Tonight, I shall see everything you see."

            "I don't understand."

            "You don't understand many things. But this, this is something you shouldn't know much about I suppose. You've studied Divination?"

            "A little bit, yes."

            "Well, since you seem so eager to always show off, Potter, I want you to look into my future."

            "You call this punishment for me? I'd be happy to," Harry said. _I'd be happy to see when you're going to die…_

"Go ahead then."

            Harry placed his hands on top of the ball and stared into the emptiness. He didn't see anything at all; yet, Snape was waiting for a prediction, so he'd better make it good.

            "I see… You and my father… You are very young and are here, at Hogwarts," Harry lied, trying to remember what he had seen years ago. "This isn't the future at all… My father is there trying to show off to a girl named Lily… And you, you are in the air, being teased by my dad!"

            "Enough!" Snape yelled. "Very well… You have glimpsed my past perhaps. Now, have you ever shared a vision before?"

            "Share? What do you mean by share?"

            "Your vocabulary needs improving. It's when we both see the same thing. It's quite straightforward. Concentrate hard on anything you wish. Go ahead. Right now."

            _What is he up to?_ Harry thought. But, he complied and placed his hands on the crystal ball. After a few seconds, he saw Snape take out his wand and whisper a word. Harry couldn't tell what he said though.

            Suddenly, a chilly nip tickled his chest. _Oh no, not now,_ Harry pleaded with his mind. _Not those visions… Snape will see…_

A dark forest, everything wintry with glistening cold covering his body. There were two voices nearby, one very deep and the other very high, a man and woman. Green light engulfed the surroundings and then a horrible pitch of a scream. And then the green faded, and everything became silent.

            Snape. As Harry reopened his eyes he saw Snape and realized he was still in detention again. At first, it seemed he was very worried but then he smirked.

            "A dream, Mister Potter?" he asked.

            "Yes, last night," Harry lied; he knew that if he told him it was a vision that his pendant may be taken away, or he'd be sent to Dumbledore to explain it.

            "Are you sure? It was quite real…" Snape trailed off. "That is enough for tonight, Potter."

            Harry turned his head to an hourglass on the desk and saw there was still grain left on the top of it. "It's early."

            "You _want_ to stay?" 

            "No! No, it's all right. I have to visit Ron," Harry said and grabbed his books. As he was leaving Snape mumbled something to himself. 

            "That was rather odd," Harry said as he walked back to the Gryffindor Tower. "And he's not escorting me tonight. I don't understand. Why would he want me to see his thoughts? Or maybe he wanted to see mine? Does he suspect something?"

            "He doesn't suspect anything about me," Harry said, but it wasn't the same. The words came out of his mouth, but they were deep, very deep. 

            Harry blinked his eyes and looked down at his pendant. "Did you just speak?" But there was nothing. "Ha! I'm talking to a piece of jewelry. Must have been my imagination. It's getting late, and I am talking to myself."

            "First sign of insanity!"

            This time, the words were definitely not from Harry. He turned around to see Peeves floating about him. His rolls of fat were tucked under a too tight shirt, even though ghosts didn't really have fat.

            "Shut up," Harry said back as he approached the doorway and the picture of the pigs.

            "Well, I never. Actually, you never. You never told me to shut up before. Something is definitely different about you. I can see a change in your aura."

            "I should tell you to shut up more often then. Go way, Peeves, and bother someone else."

            But when Harry turned around, Peeves was gone.


	12. An Unforeseen Occasion

Chapter XII: An Unforeseen Occasion

The Quidditch Team tryouts for the Gryffindor House were in the afternoon, and Harry had not practiced at all since last year. He had awoken to the cries of Neville who was still mourning his grandparents' passing. Ron was still in the hospital, and Cho couldn't try out this year with her broken and bruised body.

            After a couple of hours of classes, some better than others of course, Harry had to visit Dumbledore again. This time, Harry actually felt like telling him something. It wasn't about his visions, Cho, Ron or Malicia at all. 

            "Is it wrong to feel happy about someone else's sadness?"

            Dumbledore stared at Harry, trying to figure him out. "Maybe if you explain the situation to me."

            "Well… When I found out it was Neville's grandparents that died, I felt really happy. Don't get me wrong. It's just that I thought it might have been Ron or Cho. I still feel rotten though."

            "Of course you were relieved, Harry. Anyone would. There's nothing wrong with that. But I sense you are holding something back. You know you can and should tell me anything."

            Harry couldn't tell him about the pendant! Dumbledore would think he hurt Cho, and he hurt Ron, and he would be expelled for sure. There was something else he could talk about though.

            "Actually, about the Medieval Dragons class. Charlie mentioned earlier today that the dragons might be taken away because of the incident."

            Dumbledore nodded. "They are dangerous, no doubt. You can understand the Ministries' concern about it."

            "Yes, but Charlie can handle them. The other day wasn't his fault. Please let the dragons stay. At least for a few more weeks."

            "We'll see. Our time is almost up," Dumbledore said.

            And so, they finished up their 'shrink' session, and Harry ran off to his other classes. Each minute seemed like forever to Harry, as all he could think about was the Quidditch tryouts.

            After his last class, Harry grabbed Malicia from his room and hurried to the fields. He had to practice a good hour before he tried out for Seeker again. Ginny was Seeker two years ago, and she was a chaser last year. This year, however, she was trying out for Seeker again, so Harry had to make sure she didn't get the position.

            When he arrived, only two other people were there. Ginny of course showed up, and surprisingly, he saw Hermione. He hadn't spoken to her in what seemed like a while but didn't know she was interested in Quidditch at all.

            "Don't get any ideas," Hermione hollered as she approached Harry. "I'm not trying out."

            "Then why are you here?"

            "Because I'm worried about you. I know Ron's ill, but I also know you and him had come to blows. It doesn't take a genius to figure that you two fought the other day."

            "You don't know what you're talking about, Hermione. Now, I have to practice. Are you going to stay and bug me or watch me?"

            "Neither. I'm going to visit Ron. Good day, Harry," she said and left.

            "Fine with me!" Harry shouted. Just as he did, Fly walked onto the field holding a Nimbus 2000. He seemed concerned about Harry and Hermione's relationship as he glared at both of them.

            "Trouble with the ladies?" He asked in his French accent.

            "Oh, shut up," Harry barked and rolled his eyes.

            They both mounted their broomsticks and flew off above the Quidditch fields. After about ten minutes of just practicing how to fly, Harry stopped in mid-air and looked down to the lady who was right underneath him.

            "Elise?" Harry shouted down.

            Immediately, Fly stopped short and looked down. His face froze, and he started gulping loudly. 

            "You two want a friendly scrimmage? Two Gryffindor boys against one Slytherin girl?"

            "But this is time for us to practice, not you!" Harry yelled, unhappy that she had time yesterday and now wanted to take up more time out on the field.

            "Of course!" Fly said and smiled.

            In a second, Elise was on her broomstick, another Nimbus, and flying toward Fly and Harry. As she got closer, Harry noticed her cheeks were very red, and she batted her eyelashes each time she looked at Fly. _Puppy love,_ Harry thought and laughed to himself.

            "We don't have any quaffels or anything up here," said Harry.

            "I have a snitch!" Elise said proudly and extended her hand. "Since both of you are trying out for Seeker, we can all practice our eye sight and try to catch the darn thing."

            _Fly was trying out for Seeker? No!_ Harry shouted in his mind. _Now I have to worry about both Ginny and Fly? This isn't fair. There are open positions in Chasers and Beaters! Why does he have to choose Seeker? Damn him!_

"Fine with me," Fly said and waited for Harry's approval.

            "Yes," Harry agreed, trying to control any anger in his voice.

            All three of them formed a triangle with their broomsticks. Harry didn't even think about his Driveller. He assumed the Ministry put some sort of spell to shut her up. In any case, what harm could she really do?

            Elise turned her eyes to Fly and then to Harry. She then extended her right arm as she steadied herself with her left. In her hand was a silver snitch. She gently opened up her hand and two shiny wings jolted out from the metal ball. After she blinked once, it disappeared. All three looked around and didn't move at all. If they moved, someone else would see it too and rush over to it.

            _Where are you? Come on now…Where… There!_

Harry spotted a glimmer far off to the north end of the field. He had to make a move then and there. And so, he pushed forward on Malicia, and they were off. Of course, Fly and Elise followed him and were not too far behind him.

            As he halted to a complete stop, Harry realized the snitch was gone. Fly and Elise assumed Harry was tricking them and turned around. They split up across the field. Now, only the south end was left unguarded. If the snitch showed up there, Fly and Elise would be much closer to it…

            And Fly was off! He jolted toward the south end of the field. Elise waited behind; perhaps thinking it was a trick. However, Harry didn't think so. The look on Fly's face…

            "Fast! Let's go!" Harry shouted, knowing fully well Malicia could hear him. He leaned forward on the Firebolt and flew quickly. Luckily, Fly's Nimbus was no match for his Malicia. In a matter of seconds, Harry was only a few feet away from Fly.

            A small glimmer revealed the snitch to be right near the middle hoop. As both of them approached it fast, Harry knew Fly actually had a chance of getting it. 

            "Malicia, please get me to that snitch," Harry whispered to his Firebolt. Just as he said it, he found himself in front of the hoop, and the snitch in front of him.

            Harry slowly extended his hand, somewhat in shock of how quickly he got there. Just then, another hand swept in front of his eyes and almost grabbed the snitch.

            _Fly._

At that time, Harry heard a small whisper; suddenly, a dash of yellow light streaked straight at Fly and hit him right in the chest. His body lifted off the Nimbus and almost floated in the air before it started to descend.

            "Ah!" Elise screamed from across the field as she started to race downward in hope of catching Fly.

            SLAM.

            A pool of blood swarmed around Fly disfigured body. His leg was twisted upward in an unnatural way. His head was hidden, smashed into the ground. He didn't move. Didn't move at all.

            "Oh Merlin, no, oh no, no," Elise chanted the word 'no' over several times. She landed next to the very bloody Fly and fell to her knees. She motioned her hand to roll over Fly's body. 

            Harry couldn't look. He cupped his hands over his eyes, but the horrendous screams echoing from down below told him all he needed to know for sure. Fly was dead.

***

            Elise did not move for at least one hour until the Ministry's Morticians arrived. Harry had called for Madame Pomfrey whom after seeing Fly immediately knew he was not alive. At least two-dozen Gryffindors saw his body as they approached the field all-smiling, excited about Quidditch Team tryouts.

            After they took his body away, Dumbledore called for an emergency meeting of all the houses. However, Harry already knew what he was going to say. Many students had heard the speech about death before, when Cedric died.

            When Hermione heard the news, she broke down in tears and left the Great Hall immediately. Several other Gryffindor girls joined her. Elise didn't even show up to the meeting, too shocked at what she had seen.

            _What if they question me?_ Harry thought to himself as Dumbledore concluded his speech. _Where did that light come from? Was it my imagination, and he just fell? That must have been it… It was an accident. He fell! I didn't do a damn thing. Stop thinking that. Oh, people are leaving._

"It's awful!" Ginny moaned as she hugged Harry from behind.

            "Yeah."

            "It must be so terrible for you! First Cho, then Ron and now Fly! And you witnessed it all!"

            "What do you mean? I wasn't there when Ron got hurt! I wasn't!"

            Ginny's face froze, and she took a step back. In a soft voice she replied, "Sorry, I didn't mean it that way. I have to go. I just can't believe…"

            Ginny ran off in front of Harry and wiped a tear from her cheek. Harry sighed to himself. The funeral would be the next the day. Fly's parents were notified at the Ministry Morgue and had requested it immediately. They probably wanted it over with.

            However, Harry did not feel as upset as he had been with Cedric's death. Maybe it was because he didn't know Fly as well, or maybe it was because he knew he had less competition now…


	13. The Funeral and the Fury

Chapter XIII: The Funeral and the Fury

  


Midnight black veils draped across the archway. Rolls of velvet tickertape extended down the center of the Great Hall. All the tables were removed and replaced by small black stools. At least a thousand of them spread across the room, only separated by the tape.

            Thick, dark royal blue bows tied around the top of the walls and were connected by shiny, black silk ribbon. The walls and ceiling itself had changed like a chameleon from brown wood to a solid black. Actually, the only things white in the room were Fly's parents.

            They sat next to the casket that was closed due to the brutal force of the ground completely destroying Fly's face. Their faces were pale as bone and eyes gushy red. It was obvious they had been weeping all night and were only holding it in to suppress the thoughts of their son dead.

            The father had short, blonde hair that was balding in the back and extremely light blue eyes. His body was very stout, and the suit he wore barely covered him. 

Next to the man was a very thin, sickly woman. She had thin, gray hair that was pulled away in a bun. A black hat brimmed across her forehead, so it was very hard to see her face. She wore a classical black dress and gray stockings that ruffled at the end. For some reason, she wore gray, mitten gloves that made her fingers look like hooves.

            And next to her was a white bearded wizard none other than Dumbledore himself. He stood, waiting for the Houses to arrive (those that wished to attend). All classes were canceled that day, so everyone could attend if they wanted to.

            Cho was up and most of her bones mended. She wore a strange bracket made of clear twine around her wrist. Madame Pomfrey helped her to the Hall, and she was the first to arrive. After taking a seat, a herd of Gryffindors walked with their heads down.

            Among the crowd of black robed students was Harry who immediately saw Cho. He hurried to grab a seat next to her. At first he smiled, but the teary eyed look on her face took that smile away.

            "How could this happen?" She whispered.

            Harry knew what she was referring to. "It was an accident."

            "I know that," she said. "But, how? How did he just fall? It doesn't make sense."

            "I'd rather not talk about how it happened exactly."

            "I'm so sorry! I didn't realize what that must have sounded like… This must be terrible for you."

            "Why does everyone keep saying that?" Harry snapped at her.

            "Sorry," Cho whispered and then moved in slightly so others could take seats in that row.

            "Everyone, please find your seats. We shall begin shortly." Dumbledore's voice boomed across the Great Hall. 

            Suddenly, a huge woman appeared at the archway into the Hall. It was Madam Olympe Maxime. Behind her were several students from the Beauxbatons Academy of Magic. Fly had attended that school before Hogwarts.

            As she took her seat in the back with her students, one of them walked off in search of someone. As Harry peered closer, he recognized him to be Vicktor Krum! He seemed lost until he nodded his head and walked two rows in front of Harry.

            He tapped a girl on the shoulder. When she turned around, Harry knew it was Hermione. Her face literally dropped an inch, and she grinned tremendously. Realizing there were no seats in her row, Hermione got up and walked to the back with Vicktor.

            "Ah, I see the last visitors have arrived. Now, on this very solemn occasion I first must address my deepest sympathies to the Schafly family. Secondly, I know Carillon's, or as many of you called him, Fly's parents would like to speak first about him."

            Dumbledore stepped down from the front of the stage and took his normal seat. The father stood up first and gulped before he spoke. His voice was very shaky, but he was trying desperately to control it.

            "Hello all... Uh-hum… My name is also Carillon Schafly, but everyone calls me Carillo… Uh-hum… My son was our second born… But as you see, there are no siblings up here…" He took a deep breath. "Our first born child was named Cassandra. She passed on seven years ago." The Hall filled with 'awes' and 'ohs'. "And yesterday, Carillon joined her up in heaven. We have no doubt that this was meant to be. Perhaps his passing will serve a greater purpose…"

            The father couldn't speak any more. His eyes started to drip, and he quickly sat back down. It was the mother's turn. She seemed very hesitate about getting up. When she walked forward, her hat completed hid her face. 

            "Good morning, everyone, although, under the circumstances, things are not very good. I'll introduce myself since I have not met any of Carillon's friends while he did frequently spoke to me about one in particular. Well, my name is Jacqueline Grugru-Schafly.  I am, or was, Carillon's mother. I am not a witch." Several students began to whisper, unsure if she was actually a Muggle. "I am not _completely_, what do you call, a Muggle…" More curiosity spread. Jacqueline lifted her hat slowly to reveal a skeleton long face that was green tinged. After removing the hat completely and taking down her hair, it went down to the floor. Then, she took off her mittens to reveal gnarled fingers. "I am part Banshee. Half to be precise."

            A few people looked at her in disgust and others raised their brows, unsure of what a Banshee was. However, the woman continued anyway, despite the ruffling voices.

            "I am telling you this so that you know everything about Carillon. He was one fourth Banshee and one fourth Muggle. Those that knew him long would not have known this, because he never mentioned me. He was ashamed of me, and I knew it. But now, I hope Carillon can forgive me. He hated me in life; yet, in death, I hope he forgives."

            Everyone placed his or her heads down and wept. Silence controlled the room for a good twenty minutes. Students started to leave, and some visited the casket. They said their last words. A few girls placed flowers on top of it with notes of kindness.

            Harry was busy comforting Cho. He didn't know what to think. This was a chance to be with her, but he should have been upset about Fly's death. However, he wasn't really at all. 

            "Cho, do you want to go sit by the fire in the Gryffindor common room?" Harry asked, trying to think of anything that could get her alone with him.

            "Sure. Don't you want to go to the casket first?" It was hard for her to say the word 'casket' actually. She stuttered quiet a bit.

            "No, not really. It just brings back, unwanted thoughts. Not now anyway. Please, let's go."

            Cho nodded and followed Harry out through the dark archway. As they passed by the foreign students, Harry noticed Hermione in Vicktor's arms. She was crying into his shoulder, and he was squeezing her back. _If only Ron could see this,_ Harry thought and continued walking.

            When they entered the common room, several Gryffindor students were already there. Actually, there was no place at all to sit. Harry sighed and grabbed Cho's hands.

            "Perhaps you want to go to my room?"

            She raised her eyebrow. "Well…"

            "It'll be quiet there, and we could talk."

            "In that case… Yes."

            _Yes!_

Harry dragged Cho behind him and raced up the staircase. When Harry entered the room, he locked the door behind him. He then tossed Cho onto his bed and jumped down next to her.

            "Whoa there," she said, trying to understand what he was doing.

            "It's okay, really. Now, let's talk a little."

            "Good," she said, "Because I think you're holding in your emotions. This can't be easy for you but hiding won't help, Harry."

            "That's not what I wanted to talk about!"

            "But I do! Harry, listen to me!"

            "No, you listen to me!" Harry shouted and grabbed Cho's hands. "Listen to me now, you hear me?"

            "Harry, you're hurting me," Cho said in a faint yet scared voice as she was being tossed around.

            "Shut up!" 

            "Your eyes, Harry…"

            "Listen! I want you, and you want me! We are almost of age, Cho! We can do whatever we want! Now, come here!" Harry pulled Cho near him, trying to kiss her.

            Cho yanked her body back causing Harry to tumble forward and hit his head on the bedpost. He rubbed his head and looked over at Cho with his deep cobalt eyes.

            "Bad, very bad," Harry said in a much deeper voice than before.

            "Harry, you're scaring me…"

            "Oh, you should be scared. If you won't love me, then I must make you love me." Harry reached down into his robe and pulled out his wand.

            "Harry, stop it! Stop it, Harry," Cho demanded and jumped off the bed. She ran toward the door but couldn't open it.

            Harry steadied his wand and pointed it at Cho. "Amorism!"

            Her body fell to the ground, but her legs still moved about. After a few seconds, she rolled over and crawled to her knees. She stared at Harry, and both her eyebrows lifted high above her now pink eyes.

            "Oh, Harry!" she said and hugged him.

            "Now, this is better."

            KNOCK.

            "We're busy," Harry muttered.

            KNOCK.

            "Go away!"

            KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK

            "Who the… Hold on, Cho," Harry said. He unlocked the door and opened it to surprisingly see Neville.

            "Harry! Ron's awake! You better come now!"

            Harry rolled his eyes and turned to Cho. "Come with me."

            "I'd go anywhere with you," she replied in a sickly sweet voice.

            As Harry left the room, Neville asked, "What's with her?"

            "Nothing. Don't ask so many questions," Harry snapped back and hurried to the hospital wing with Cho by his side.

            _Perfect. Cho is in love with me, and all it took was a little extra magic. Thanks to Fly, I'll be Seeker, and I'm sure Cho can get on the team. Look at her. So perfect, so gorgeous, so mine._

"Mister Potter! Look who's awake!" Madame Pomfrey exclaimed as she pointed to Ron.

            "Harry?" Ron asked.

            "Yes, Ron, it's me. You, uh, remember me?" 

_            The Memory Charm should have wiped out ALL his memory… Don't panic, Harry, we can fix this… _Another voice entered his thoughts. _Just do it again when no one is looking…_

            "Yes…" He seemed frightened.

            "Ron, do you remember the fight we had?"

            _IDIOT, don't remind him,_ the voice said.

            Ron looked over at Cho and then Pomfrey. "Could you two leave us?"

            "Oh, Harry, I don't want to leave your side!" Cho said and leeched onto him.

            "Go outside, Cho."

            "Anything you say."

            Pomfrey walked to the other side of the room and pretended not to listen. Harry approached Ron carefully, clutching his wand behind his back just in case.

            "Harry… I don't really remember much about what happened…"

            LIAR, he's lying, Harry. Finish him off… 

            "Really?" Harry asked and shook his wand behind him. _This was it,_ he thought. _He had to do this…_

"Yes, well… Madame Pomfrey!" Ron screamed loudly.

            Pomfrey ran over as fast as she could with her little legs. She practically fell on top of Harry and struggled to get his wand away from him.

            "Weasley told me all about how you tried to use a Memory Charm on him! I won't let you harm him!"

            Harry snickered a deep laugh. He pressed against her and pulled his wand away, pointing it straight at her face.

            "But I can harm you… Obliv—"

            "Finite Incantatum!" Another voice boomed.

            It belonged to Neville Longbottom who stood at the doorway. He was able to stop Harry's curse from working at all this time. Pomfrey quickly grabbed Harry's wand and attempted to use it.

            "Petrificus Totalus!" She yelled.

            However, Harry rolled to the ground just in time to miss it. He ran toward the door, shoving Neville out of the way. As he passed by Cho in the hallway, he didn't kiss or hug her. Instead, he completely ignored her. He didn't have much time before others knew of him.

            Harry ran back to the Gryffindor Tower to get Malicia. He found her still in his bedroom unharmed. After he mounted her, Harry looked at his window. 

            "Malicia, fly me straight through that window!"

            Obviously, she heard him, because they went dashing forward right through the glass. Harry barely had enough time to close his eyes. As they broke through it, Harry knew there was only one place he could go.

            As they descended toward Hagrid's hut, Harry thought about a story he could create to explain why he was there. Before he could think about anything good, Hagrid opened up the door.

            "I s'pose ya're here te mourn 'bout Fly. I've gotten t'ree people today. Come on in, Harry," Hagrid said glumly.

            _Perfect._

"Yes, that's it."

            "Well, come in and sit down by de fire."

            Harry hurried in and placed Malicia down on a table. He took a deep breath and took everything in. It would only be a matter of time before someone came looking for him in the cabin.

            "Hagrid, I can't stay too long."

            "Oh? Why's that?"

            "Um, well, I have to," Harry thought carefully, "I have to see Ron. I heard he's awake." 

            "Is that so? I betta visit him wit' ya!"

            "NO!"

            Hagrid stepped back and looked at Harry with curious eyes. "And why not? Why have ya been acting so strange lately?"

            "I HAVEN'T! That's it! I'm leaving now!"

            "I didn't mean te offend ya, I—"

            Harry stormed out of Hagrid's hut with Malicia in hand. Where was he to go now?

            _Don't stop now, Harry… He knows too much… _Harry listened to the deep voice. _Who?… The half giant… Hagrid?… Yes… But, I can't hurt him… Of course you can. You can do anything you want… _


	14. In the Forbidden Forest

  


Chapter XIV: In the Forbidden Forest

  


_            Shut up! There's no time for that, _Harry yelled inside his mind at the voice. _We must run. Or better yet, fly…_

With Malicia in place, Harry jumped on and leaned toward the direction of the Forbidden Forest. As they started to move, he could hear the voice of Hagrid far away shouting his name, but there was no turning back.

            As they entered a dense part of the woods, certain trees became familiar. They were approaching the spot where Harry had originally found the emerald leaf. Right as they reached the exact spot, Harry shouted, "Stop!" to Malicia who immediately obeyed her master.

            Gently, Harry jumped off the Firebolt and stepped toward the imprint he had made when he had fallen. He looked around for anything that looked like his or perhaps belonged to the necklace. But he found nothing peculiar.

            That reminded him… Those peculiar symbols on the necklace… What did they mean? Harry placed his hand on the pendant and lifted it toward his face. He then moved toward Malicia. Perhaps she knew them. She was a Driveller, and according to Hagrid, Driveller's were very smart and handy.

            "Malicia, open your eyes. Can you read these letters? Right here on this green medallion?"

            Her red eyes fluttered, and her mouth opened wide. "Yes."

            "You can?" Harry asked surprised.

            "Of course I can. It is a very old character language but easily translated."

            "Well… What does it mean?"

            "Those nine letters each represent an English letter. That one is an S, the second one is an L, the third a Y…"

            "Sly?"

            "Fourth one is a T, fifth one is an H, and sixth one is an E…"

            "Slythe… Slytherin!"

            Malicia smiled. "Yes."

            "So this belonged to a Slytherin?"

            "No."

            Harry looked at Malicia with confused eyes. "I don't understand."

            "Of course not. You see… That belonged to me."

            Harry laughed. "You're a broom, silly."

            "I wasn't always one.... That necklace there was a gift from Salazar Slytherin over one thousand years ago."

            "But, that's impossible. You're a broomstick!"

            Malicia rolled her eyes back. "A thousand years ago I was not! A thousand years ago I was called Malicia Willeta."

            Harry couldn't believe it. Over ten centuries ago, Malicia was a real person? A woman who knew Salazar Slytherin? Impossible!

            "Why didn't you tell me ANY of this?"

            "Don't get mad Harry… I couldn't tell you anything with him around." Her eyes peered over to the necklace Harry was holding.

            "What do you mean?"

            Malicia giggled. "You're holding the soul, life force, whatever you wish to call it, belonging to Salazar Slytherin. He is alive as long as he has you and me around."

            "I don't understand any of this!"

            "_Indeed, you shall understand soon." _The deep voice emerged from Harry's own mouth. 

            Before Harry could say another word, his hand became numb. White frost crawled up his knuckles and over the ridges connecting his palm and fingers. It gradually moved up his arm and toward his chest. Everything was so bitter cold.

            Harry opened his eyes to find himself in a much darker forest, but indeed the very same spot, the very same Forbidden Forest. Squinting his eyes, Harry saw clearly a woman with thick red lips, red eyes and long, curly brown hair. She wore a very old, yet, elegant outfit and several necklaces.

            Behind her was a carriage that was empty. Two horses, non-magical, stood in front of it with leashes and tethers. A few feet aside of the carriage was a tall man with black hair and dark brown eyes. He wore a black suit and a white ruffled shirt underneath. Both of them were completely unaware of Harry's presence.

            "Malicia," the man said. "I am sure you know why I am here."

            She nodded. "You've completed the Chamber I assume? You are ready to leave that forsaken school of yours?"

            He nodded. "I am almost complete. However, you are no longer needed."

            "What?" she asked in a shocked and high voice.

            "I needed you for the Basilisk. I knew you could tell me where to find an infant one. But other than that, I didn't think I would need you for anything else."

            "You said you loved me, Salazar!"

            He chuckled in a deep, almost Voldemort sounding, voice. "Love? I do not love anything or anyone. Now, you are fully aware of what I have built at Hogwarts. I can't let you go."

            "But I love you! I wouldn't tell anyone!"
    
                   "I'm afraid that's not enough," he said. Salazar pulled out a long wand and pointed it at Malicia. "I hope you enjoy the remainder of your life as a tree in this damned forest…"
    
                   "Morphius Arboreus!"
    
                   "Morphius Locutus!"
    
                   Both shouted their curses at the exact same time. As they did so, their energies exchanged, a part of them going to the other. Forever bonded. Malicia slowly turned into a rooted oak tree while Salazar turned into a green energy that fell into the only item of Malicia's that survived after her transformation… An Emerald Leaf…
    
                   "You see, Harry?" the voice of Malicia pulled Harry back.
    
                   "Yes and no."
    
                   "I would have told you, but I couldn't. I hoped that if I brought you here, that you would find that necklace and destroy it! Not take it!"
    
                   Harry thought to himself. "That's why you stopped directly above here! It wasn't a coincidence at all!"
    
                   "Of course not. You foolishly had to wear it and let him control you. And in doing so, you let Salazar control me once again!"
    
                   "You mean… You weren't trying to kill me all those times? It was Salazar controlling you?"
    
                   "Well, not the first time at our home… I just wanted to scare you then… But your friend… That was not my fault."
    
                   "You caused Fly's death!" Harry shouted.
    
                   "I couldn't help it. When you wore that necklace, HE took control of me. I didn't want to hurt anybody."
    
                   "And he's been controlling me? Putting all these thoughts in my head?"
    
                   Malicia smiled. "Yes. His evil has seeped into you and sometimes his thoughts, and his words came out of you. You can't remember most of them, because he is in control of your mind and your memory."
    
                   "What if I just destroy the necklace right now?"
    
                   "You can't break it with your hands…"
    
                   Harry forgot that Madame Pomfrey took his wand! What was he going to do? Walk back up to her and ask for his wand back so he could defeat Salazar Slytherin's soul that lived inside a pendant for a thousand years? 

            "But you _can_ fight him with your mind."


	15. Battle of the Mind

Chapter XV: Battle of the Mind

  


The emerald leaf glistened as sunlight hit its edges. It was one locket that held the soul of a man dead for one thousand years. No one knew what had happened to Salazar after he left Hogwarts until now… And now Harry had to fight him in order to regain control once again.

            All those terrible things that Harry did seemed so hazy. He remembered being there when Cho was nearly killed, and he remembered fighting Ron as well. However, it was if he was seeing through a glass window and watching it all happen, having no power whatsoever. 

            He knew the only way to be normal again was to destroy the man ruining his life. Fight him with his mind? Malicia seemed to be telling the truth. But then again, could she be lying? She had done it before; there was no doubt about that.

            "How do I do that?" Harry asked Malicia.

            "Wear the emerald pendant once again but concentrate on this place, this forest. I will try to help you… Once Salazar awakens, you must right then face him in your mind before he takes control of you. If he does before you get the chance to destroy him, your life will never be the same."

            Harry stared at the pendant as it swirled in circles on its chain. He swallowed loudly and started to place the necklace over his head. Right when he felt the cold metal touch the bare skin under his robe, Harry thought about being in the Forbidden Forest, thoughts about him falling, finding the leaf and the shady past that haunted him so.

            At first, Harry believed it was not working. He didn't hear any voice and didn't see anything strange each time he opened his eye a little. Just as he was about to give up, a chill ran through his body quickly. Salazar Slytherin was awake…

            _Think… Think… Malicia was a woman… The meeting in the forest… The horrible screams coming from both her and Salazar… The twisted face of Salazar as he was hit with Malicia's curse… _

            _But Harry, it is far from over yet…_

"Get out of my mind!" Harry shouted. 

            Just then, Harry tried harder than he ever had before. His head throbbed in pain as he clutched onto the sides of it. The world around him turned black, and he was no longer in the Forbidden Forest.

            It was an empty place. There was nothing at all around it, but somehow this was a very real place. Harry could breathe in the crisp air and felt it against his skin as it prickled his hairs. He turned around to see a man, that very same man he had seen before… Salazar Slytherin.

            "Malicia has told you to fight me, has she? That old hag still obeys my every word."

            _She was still under his power…_ As Harry thought to himself, he heard his own voice loud and echoing all around him. 

            "Your thoughts are loud and clear here!"

            "Where is here?"

            "Your mind of course… But not for long… Once I take control completely, I will be able to continue what I had so long ago. I shall rid the wizardry realm of all Mudbloods."

            Harry couldn't believe it… Was it over? Was he just going to wither away while his friends, Hermione, died? He couldn't…

            "So you have seen everything I have seen? Through my eyes?"

            He nodded. "Yes. I must say Hogwarts has changed in the past ten hundred years. There is something different about you though… I should have been able to take control quite easily but something… Never mind."

            "No, something what?"

            Salazar walked right in front of Harry and patted his head. "There was a part of me in you already. I sensed it when you first found me. When you first clutched my prison I knew that we were related…"

            _But we're not_, Harry thought but the words were heard all around him.

            "Ha. Can't remember? Your thoughts are heard here. You can't think about anything without me knowing it. There is no way you can possibly defeat me here."

            He was right. If Harry thought about what he was going to do next, Salazar would already know. Or, if Harry lied in his thoughts, Salazar wouldn't know the difference…

            _I am the heir of Slytherin_, Harry thought to himself, knowing fully well it was Tom Riddle also known as Voldemort. _That's how Salazar knows me. It was I that opened the Chamber of Secrets and destroyed everyone at Hogwarts. They are all dead…_

"Liar! They are not dead! You forgot that I've seen whatever you've seen!"

            "Oh, no, you heard my thoughts," Harry said trying not to smile. "The Mudbloods… They are dead."

            Harry knew that Salazar couldn't recognize who was a Mudblood at Hogwarts just by looking at them. There was no way he could actually disprove what Harry was saying or prove it either.

            "If you are telling me the truth, and this isn't some trickery… Then, I am not needed at Hogwarts… That doesn't mean that I am not needed elsewhere! There is no reason, no word that can change my decision. I have seen through your eyes, talked through your mouth, and now I will become you."

            There was nothing Harry could do! Salazar was determined to battle Harry and without a wand, there wasn't any way he could beat him. But wait, this was Harry's mind… He couldn't use objects from the real world! He had to use his mind, just like Malicia said. It was _his _mind, and he still had control of it.

            "Very well. Shall be begin?"

            "Begin what? There is nothing to start, just something to end." Salazar smirked and closed his eyes. It seemed he was concentrating hard about something and then… His mind began to ache. There was horrible pain all around him and shaking.

            _NO,_ Harry thought, hearing it around him. _YOU WILL NOT!_

Harry kept his eyes opened and walked toward Salazar. He then pushed him down with his arms, breaking his concentration. Then, Harry shouted,

            "There was a reason I was placed in Gryffindor and NOT Slytherin!" Harry grabbed Salazar's shoulders and shouted, "Leave me alone!"

            Salazar in turn reached out for Harry's scar that now seemed to glow a shade of red. A trembling face appeared across Salazar as he tried to push Harry off of him. 

            "You are related to Voldemort! I killed Voldemort! And now I shall kill you!" Harry shouted louder and louder. He started to think about two years ago when he had defeated Voldemort. Suddenly, the scene started to replay all around them. They were in the Ministry, and there was so much shouting, so much pain…

            Sirius… Harry watched the images playing all around him in his mind. His godfather was there, alive in his memory. Just then, Harry knew he had to defeat Salazar… If not for him, for Sirius.

            The image of Voldemort appeared. In a matter of seconds, Voldemort disappeared from his thoughts… Harry looked down to see that Salazar Slytherin had disappeared as well…


	16. Ruthless Reality

Chapter XVI: Ruthless Reality

  


"Is he awake yet?"

   "No."

            "Where did you find him?"

   "I didn't. It was Hagrid. In the woods."

            "When?"

   "About two hours ago."

            "How long has been out there?"

   "Can't say exactly."

            "Wake him."

   "Now? Are you sure?"

            "Yes, Madame, yes."

  "As you wish."

            Madame Pomfrey uncorked a vial filled with thin red juice. When she did, a thick stream of smoke floated into a boy's nostrils that were under two blankets. A putrid odor of rotten cabbage filled the air and immediately twitched the nose of the young man. The retched smell awoke the boy who immediately leaped backwards into his pillows. His whole body trembled until he recognized where he was and who was near him.

            When he tried to move his arms and legs, the boy realized he was chained down. Four separate cuffs strangled his joints and were connected to heavy bars attached to the bed. Despite all his struggling, the chains did not budge and neither did the boy.

            "Harry, will you please calm down," an old voice beckoned.

            "Dumbledore? Then I am not dreaming? I am back at Hogwarts! But how? Where's Salazar?"

            The elderly wizard's eyebrow arched over his half-moon spectacles. He then peered over at Pomfrey who shook her head and mumbled to herself. 

            "Are you referring to Salazar Slytherin by any chance?"

            Harry nodded his head several times and started to sweat profoundly. "Where did he go? I was just with him… I was… Where's Malicia? Where is she? Where's my pendant?" His voice started to increase with every question asked. Dumbledore, however, placed his wrinkled index finger on top of Harry's quivering lips.

            "I am afraid we do not know what you are talking about. It was Hagrid who found you and brought you here. You have been missing for the last five weeks."

            He was out there for over a month? That couldn't be right! He would have starved! Even if he were in a coma, he would still need food to survive. Dumbledore was being outlandish. 

            "You gave us all quite a scare. Especially your friend Ron," Pomfrey explained as she wiped a cold liquid on top of Harry's forehead. It dripped slowly down Harry's nose and into his mouth; it was water.

            "Harry, we'd like to question you. But before we do, you must promise us that you will tell us the truth."

            After Harry nodded, Dumbledore pointed to a chair that flew toward him. He sat down in it and sighed to himself. Following a few moments of thinking, he looked up and stared into Harry's light blue eyes.

            "Firstly… What is this?" Dumbledore opened up a silver chest. As he moved it toward Harry, a green metal glimmered on top of a velvet covering.

            "No! Smash it!" Harry's voice screamed in a high pitch as he started to wail and move all the muscles in his face. His eyes dripped tears, and his cheeks dropped in fright.

            "Do not worry, Harry. The emerald leaf has no power over you any more."

            Harry's eyes lifted. "How did you know it ever did control me?"

            "I did not exactly, however," Dumbledore picked up the necklace and turned it on its back. The nine letters were burnt out in green rust. "This necklace is quite ancient. These symbols belong to a language written over a thousand years ago."

            "How do you know that?" Harry seemed much calmer now.

            A gold book was lifted from underneath Dumbledore's chair. A pyramid was on the cover with dark blue surrounding it. The symbol book! Dumbledore opened it, and when he did, there was no lock that had appeared before.

            "This is the only surviving Ancient Chronicle of the Forbidden Lands. In here contains history that dates back beyond any of our years. It was written by some of the first students that ever attended Hogwarts. I believe there are answers in here that may help you. That necklace," Dumbledore paused and looked over at the emerald charm lying on top of the box, "is seen on page three hundred nineteen. Go ahead, open it up."

            Harry rolled his eyes. "These chains don't help."

            A chuckle emerged from Dumbledore's mouth, and instead of unlocking the devices, he opened the book for him. Finally, a very wrinkled and crisp page turned over on top of the thick, age-abused paper. A worn painting appeared of a lady in a green dress with white ruffles and around her neck was the emerald leaf.

            "Malicia! She's so young," Harry sighed looking over the young woman's features. If only she knew she'd die in a few more years…

            "Isn't that the name of your Firebolt?" Pomfrey butted in. She must have heard everything from Ron early on… Ron! Where did he go? No one else was around Harry in the beds. 

            "Yes, well," Harry started. He first explained all the strange behaviors that his Firebolt displayed. Then, the incident when he first fell into the Forest… After that, he talked about the aching cold pains. Everything he described was much clearer than it had been before.

            "Salazar Slytherin," Dumbledore mumbled after Harry finished his recollection of the events. "It was always a mystery what happened to him. And now that mystery is solved."

            "No! It isn't! I don't know where he went or if I really defeated him!"

            Dumbledore picked up the necklace again. "This will be sent to the Ministry… If Salazar is still in there, they will know, and as for your Firebolt... I am afraid Hagrid did not find it in the forest."

            _But she was there,_ Harry thought. _I know she was. Could she have been destroyed perhaps? Or flew away? As long as she was safe from Salazar…_

"Where is everyone?" 

            "Well, Ron is back in his classes. And your friend Cho has been reversed from your very illegal love charm. I believe Hagrid is teaching right now. As for anyone else, I assume they are where they are supposed to be. I am afraid most of the school believes you are either hiding or dead."

            "But I'm not! And how was I out for FIVE weeks?" 

            Dumbledore shook his head. "I do not have those answers. Perhaps, someone did not want you to die. Again, as I have said before, you are very fortunate. Rest now. You will be getting several visitors."

            How could he rest? So many questions were running through his mind that he wished he were still in a coma. He was probably going to be sent to Azkaban for all the illegal things he did. Even if it was Salazar controlling him, he was still responsible for his actions.

            "Mister Potter," a deep voice startled him. It was not, however, Salazar. It did belong to a Slytherin though.

            "Snape," Harry muttered. _Oh, how I do not want to see you right now._

            "Yes, well, I am pleased that you are not dead." This was one of the first nice things Snape had said in a while. "As for your miraculous reappearance earlier today, I cannot help but wonder why you are not dead."

            "I'm sorry if I disappointed you," Harry said sarcastically. "I'll try harder to die next time."

            "Do not laugh at death, Mister Potter! It is not a joke," he paused and looked over at the open page of the symbol book. "So, Malicia was who I thought she was."

            "What?"

            Snape grabbed a chair and sat down it in, slightly crossing his right leg over the left. He leaned forward toward Harry. "When you first said her name, I hoped it was just a coincidence. Perhaps you heard Granger say it and named your Firebolt after her. However, when she spoke, I realized that coincidences only go so far."

            "But—"

            "Don't interrupt me, boy. Now, the Ministry was too stupid to figure out the connection between the infamous Malicia Slytherin and your Firebolt. And so, I tried to find other ways of getting rid of her."

            "The crystal ball?"

            "Yes. If only you had clearer visions, ones that proved that it was Malicia who was turned into your Firebolt… Then, I could have easily replayed them to the Ministry and had her taken away."

            "But she was turned into a tree!" Harry yelled back.

            "You ignorant boy. You haven't been reading the assignments. In 1307, a small group of dwarf miners decided they could cut down some trees in the Forest. When they were told they could not do it, they tried to explain that they need a way to get to their mines only a short way from Hogwarts. A trail was created underground just for them, but their damage was irreversible."

            It made some sense… Broomsticks were made from trees… But that still didn't explain how Harry ended up with her. Coincidence? Unlikely.

            "And now she is gone?" Snape asked.

            "According to Dumbledore, she wasn't any where near me."

            "Then, she is finally at rest."

            Did Snape know it was Salazar Slytherin that turned her into a tree? He had to have known. 

"Wait, before you called her Malicia Slytherin not Malicia Willeta!"

            "She was supposedly married to Salazar Slytherin; although, no records of their marriage survived. It has just been assumed ever since… How do you know her maiden name?"

            Perhaps he didn't know… Harry repeated everything he had to Dumbledore from the beginning. It took another hour before he had completed his tale. Snape did not seem too surprised, although, the mentioning of Malicia this time did not make him flinch.

            "Interesting, Potter. Very interesting… But, you have left many questions to be answered."

            "Ask me."

            "Very well. How did you survive out there for five weeks? Did Salazar aid you? Is he alive?"

            "I can't answer those questions."

            Snape chuckled his evil laugh and got up out of his seat. "Useless as always."

            _Useless? I defeated yet another evil man! I probably saved all of you from a certain death! Useless? What nerve!_

            "I expect you to be in detention tomorrow night, Potter."

            "Are you kidding?"

            "Never," Snape said back as he left the medical wing.

            Harry was left there all alone, with the exception of Pomfrey, to ponder what had happened. _How did he survive so long? Who helped him? What about Malicia? Is she okay? And who in the first place knew she was a Driveller and gave her to Sirius? Oh, Sirius…_


	17. Healing Scars

Chapter XVII: Healing Scars

            "He's alive, Ron," Hermione puckered a wet kiss onto Ron's lips. He smiled and nodded.

            "I cannot believe it!"

            "You're crying, Ron. I thought you of all people would be happy."

            "I am! I thought he was dead for sure," Ron said in a low voice. "All those nights I cried myself to sleep."

            "I know. You're not the only one who grieved. Even the Dursleys seemed upset when they heard Harry might have been dead."

            "Yeah, upset that there was hope he was alive! I really cannot believe it. How could he just show up? Hagrid and I searched that Forest for two weeks until Dumbledore forced us to stop."

            Hermione glanced to her left. Cho ran by in the direction of the hospital wing. The place was probably swarming by now. But, it didn't matter how long they would have to wait to see Harry. He was alive, and that was all that mattered.

            "Yeah… We better go now if we want a chance to see him today," Hermione said as she walked along with Ron.

In the past five weeks, they had not done much of anything except weep. Hermione broke off her relationship with Vicktor who seemed more interested in kissing her than comforting her. Ron was very pleased with this but was too upset over Harry to make any move on Hermione.

As they approached the hallway leading to the medical wing, a line wrapped the walls for what seemed like a mile. Students and teachers from all different Houses lined up to see Harry, to make sure he was real. When Professor McGonagall spotted them, she waved her hands and yelled,

"Miss Granger! Mister Weasley! Come to the front! Harry has been requesting you two!"

Immediately, they raced through the jammed corridor. It was much more difficult than expected to get through the crowd. Every person seemed unwilling to move over for two people to cut the line. However, after several minutes of pushing and shoving, Ron and Hermione made it to the doorway. 

To their surprise, Harry was standing up, out of bed and looking at himself in a mirror. When he saw the reflection of Ron and Hermione, he turned around and smiled greatly. His face was so different to them. He had stubble around his chin, and his hair had grown past his ears. 

"Oh, Harry!" Hermione shouted and wrapped her arms around his skinny body. Ron joined in too and hugged him hard. 

"You're hurting me," Harry joked, and they released their grip.

"We have so much to ask you!" Ron shouted.

Harry nodded. "I know. But I'm not answering anything until I can figure out some things for myself."

"What things? Harry, you've been missing for so long. We really thought you were dead, mate," Ron said as his chin quivered.

"I know, but you have to believe me when I say I will tell you all later. Actually, I may be giving a speech about it during lunch tomorrow. I don't want to be repeating myself for the rest of the school year."

"All right," Hermione said softly and stared at Harry. They were silent for at least a few minutes before Hermione continued. "It's just that… Where were you? I know you just said you won't answer our questions, but surely you can tell us that?"

Harry shook his head. "Honestly, that's one of things I haven't figured out. Last thing I remember was being in the Forbidden Forest. But I couldn't have been there for over a month. Someone must have taken me."

"Who?" Ron asked.

"I don't know," Harry said again. "Please, don't ask me anything else. You have no idea what has happened to me."

"Exactly, that's why we are asking, Harry!" Hermione shouted.

"Tomorrow, I promise things will make at least a little more sense. Now, you guys can stay if you want. It looks like I will be up for several more hours."

Ron and Hermione nodded their heads. They both took seats and watched as dozens of wizards and witches entered the room. After four hours, Harry was still getting visitors, and it seemed the line would never end. 

"He's made himself even more famous," Ron whispered.

"He's defeated death more than I can count. That's something that would make anyone legendary."

***

            The next morning, Harry groomed himself for the first time in over a month. After shaving his chin and side burns, he worked on cutting his hair a bit. He kept some of the length though that rounded around his face. His eyes hid behind a few straggly waves of black hair. When he finally finished his routine, Harry found himself surrounded by visitors who wanted to get answers of course.

            "Lunch. I will tell all then," was Harry's usual reply to them. It took at least three responses before the visitor got the idea and ran off. 

            So many different thoughts pounced throughout his head. How was he going to start his tale? He could just repeat what he told Dumbledore and Snape, but that would take at least an hour. Well, he had all the time he wanted now.

            "Hello, Harry," a woman's voice said softly behind him.

            "I thought I said," Harry began until he realized it was Professor McGonagall. "Oh, hi. I didn't mean to snap. It's just—"

            "You don't need to explain anything to me. Well, in a few hours, my questions will be answered I hope. However, I must speak to you about another matter of urgency."

            "Anything," Harry said and sighed.

            "Well, there have been some changes in the last month. With the death of Mister Schafly, and then, with your sudden disappearance, several students were pulled out of Hogwarts. Many of your classmates may not be in the Hall to greet you."

            "But, I've seen the most important people to me. As long as they're there."

            "Very good. But that's not all… Mister Charles Weasley has left back to Greece with all the dragons, including Hagrid's young companion."

            "You took Willy away from him!" Harry shouted.

            "Yes, well, he couldn't possibly be raised here. Hagrid is a bit shaken up. First, his brother's death last year. Then, you disappear. After that, his dragon is taken away. And now that you've been found, he's actually quite worse. You gave him a huge scare."

            "Shouldn't he be happy that I'm okay?"

            "Well, he thought you were dead when he found your body. You could hear his wails from the Forest all the way to my office. I'm afraid he's hit the edge and fallen over. He'll be sent to St.Mungo's very soon to recover."

            Harry never could imagine Hagrid going to such a place, and it was entirely his fault. As a few tears streaked down Harry's cheek, McGonagall hugged him tenderly and started to leave the room. Pounding surfaced inside Harry's head. There was too much to think about, way too much.

            After an hour of sulking and trying to relax, Harry left the medical wing and headed toward the Great Hall. Several students spotted him and yelled his name loudly. However, Harry did not talk back to them. He would wave his hand and hide his head in his new robe given to him by Dumbledore earlier. 

            Harry entered through the back entranceway and came on to the stage facing at least a thousand faces. Before he knew it, the Hall filled with claps and hoots. Students of all ages stood up and screamed and yelled Harry's name in a chant.

            "Harry Potter! Harry Potter! Harry Potter!" His name rang throughout the Hall over and over until he reached the front of the podium and cleared his throat.

            "Hello, Houses of Hogwarts, witches and wizards everywhere," Harry bellowed. Just as he started, voices mellowed down trying to listen to every word Harry said. "As you know, I have been missing for over a month. I cannot tell you where I was, because I do not entirely know myself. However, I can tell you about my struggles with an evil force, which compelled me to do things I never thought possible. I hurt several people and have been responsible for terrible acts. I take full responsibility of my actions…And now, I shall begin my tale…"

            Harry told everything he could remember. He started off with his summer in Sirius's home and how Malicia first spoke. Then, he continued with how he learned about Drivellers. Every witch and wizard carefully listened to each word he spoke. When Harry reached the part about Fly, he paused and thick tears trickled down his reddened cheeks.

            "I am responsible for his death! If it weren't for my Firebolt, he'd still be alive! All of you must think of me as a monster now. I am a murderer…"

            Before Harry could continue his ranting confession, Dumbledore stepped in with his words of wisdom.

            "Salazar Slytherin is the murderer. Harry simply was a pawn in his evil scheme. If anyone is to be blamed, it is Salazar. Now, I want you, Harry, to continue."

            Harry nodded and took in a few deep breaths. His story became clearer when the anecdote behind Malicia and Salazar was revealed. A few awes and oh's escaped throughout the Hall. When Harry finally ended his story with how he woke up in the medical wing confused and in shock, the students did something Harry did not expect.

            Everyone stood up and clapped their hands. They started chanting Harry's name once again as they did close to an hour earlier. Instead of being angry which Harry thought for sure that they would be, they were jubilant. His name was even chanted from the Slytherin Table. For the first time, Harry witnessed Draco Malfoy smiling. Not out of spite, but out of felicity and pride. 

            "Thank you, Mister Potter. Now, if you all would be kind enough to resume your daily classes. The Halloween Festival is tomorrow, and I want things back to normal," Dumbledore spoke in his elderly wise voice. 

            The Great Hall started to empty out. Harry motioned Hermione, Ron and Cho to come forward to him on the stage. The three slowly approached, trying to get through the crowd as they had done earlier. 

            "Cho, I am so sorry," Harry said in a very honest voice. He hugged her gently and then stared into her eyes.

            "Don't!"

            "I know, you should hate me and—"

            "No, don't apologize. It wasn't you, and we all understand this now. You should not be sorry. Please, we'd rather you not be," Cho said and kissed Harry on the lips.

            When she pulled away, Harry beamed a smile that he hadn't done in what felt like forever. He looked over at Ron who he had seen the other day. Within a month, Ron's face seemed to have aged and matured. So did Hermione's. Her child-like face had melted away, and a beautiful young woman had emerged. Perhaps Harry did not notice due to the emerald leaf, but they had all grown rapidly. They looked more like adults than ever before.


	18. The Protectors

Chapter XVIII: The Protectors

            "Come in," Dumbledore said as he lurked his eyes above his glasses.

            Harry slowly walked up to his desk as his heart pumped more blood than usual. It had been several long weeks since the Halloween Festival occurred. The following day was the first day of Christmas Break. Ever since Harry returned, homework from teachers was little to none. Even in NEWT level courses, tests were much easier. However, questions still tortured Harry's mind. He needed answers and could not wait any longer.

            "Professor Dumbledore," said Harry and clutched his left hand in his right. He took a seat in front of the elderly wizard's desk and gulped. "I need help."

            "You've come to the right place. What can I do for you?" Dumbledore asked as if he knew Harry would be coming to him soon.

            "I need to look into my past. I have to know where I was. If I don't, I'm afraid I will go mad."

            "The past cannot harm you. However, if you truly need the answers you seek, I cannot give them to you if I do not have them."

            "I know, I thought, maybe," Harry said as his eyes wandered over to a glass object sitting in the corner of the room.

            "That will give you a glimpse of what you wish to see. But, you may not want to know," Dumbledore cautioned, knowing that if the truth was painful, it could hurt Harry more than any physical scar ever could.

            Harry nodded and walked over to the glass object. He stared into it and placed his hands on the round edges. Concentrating hard, he tried to remember his battle with Salazar as clearly as possible.

            Darkness fell over his eyes, and Harry's body felt numb and boneless. Dumbledore's office swirled away and was gone. Where was he? This was not the Forbidden Forest nor was the place barren like his mind.

            A staircase of white spiraled toward a sunlit sky and clouds of fluff engulfed Harry's feet. Far off in the distance there was a castle much like Hogwarts… It was Hogwarts, but much more lighter. The bricks were pale, and there were no trees anywhere.

            Harry turned his head to see a young man lying motionless on top of the white surface. At a closer glimpse, it was himself! What was this world he was in? Who was that? Harry looked over to the far left to spot a man with dark hair and a dark robe to match… He leaned over the body of the other Harry and wept.

            "Oh, no… It can't be… Sirius?" Harry asked, but it seemed that in this reality, he could not be heard, only could watch.

            "This isn't your time," Sirius said in a shaken voice. "I won't let you leave now. You're too young," Sirius mumbled as he hugged the lifeless body.

            Harry stepped back to witness two other figures approach. It was a beautiful woman with brown looking hair and a handsome man in glasses whom he knew he had seen before… No, it couldn't be…

            "He's not ready to join us," the woman said.

            "No, this isn't right at all. Should we awaken him?"

            Sirius shook his head. "He can't see us. If he remembered this at all, it could damage his mind more than we know. He shall remain with us until we can send him back."

            "That could take forever! We don't know the condition of his physical body. He could be chopped—" the man paused and choked on his own saliva.

            "We'll do everything we can to bring him back to his reality," the woman said calmly and kissed the other Harry's head. "My baby needs to live his life as he was meant to."

            Harry watched, baffled and felt as if his body were being pulled away. Everything was becoming distant and faded. _No, I don't want to leave_, Harry thought to himself. _I want to see them again! No!_

"Welcome back, Harry," Dumbledore said. The old wizard stood over Harry's body. He was still in Dumbledore's office, his body trembling.

            "I, I… I was—"

            "It seems you have gotten the answers you needed."

            "Yes," Harry responded and sighed.

For a few seconds he saw them, all together and protecting him once again. His mother, his father and his godfather were all there waiting for him. Perhaps it was the afterlife, or maybe it was something else. Harry never would know this answer until it was truly his time.

After the Christmas break, Harry found himself lying on his bed, staring up the grand ceiling. Ron walked in and sat beside him, wearing an ugly maroon sweater with his name stitched into it with gold lettering. He patted Harry on the back and then rubbed it slightly.

"Don't ever do that again, disappearing like that," said Ron.

"I wish I could see them," Harry said as he blocked out Ron's voice.

"See who?"

Harry never told anyone that he saw Sirius and his parents, not even Ron or Hermione. It was something very deep and very mysterious that even if he thought he could tell someone, he wouldn't. Some things were best left in silence and in secret.

For the following month, Harry barely spoke to anyone. He got the usual stares and glares in the corridors as he passed from class to class. Sometimes, he would get a comment here or there but it was nothing that Harry couldn't handle. In fact, Harry welcomed being talked to; it made him feel alive again.

Part of Harry could not remember the horrible things he did. It was like a dream you had; you wake up in the morning and can remember clearly at first, but as the day goes on, it becomes faded and distant. Only parts of the dream he could remember, but nothing fit together or made sense.

The one thing Harry did remember was Fly and his body falling into the luscious grass below. He could remember the screams of Elise Wings as she ran onto the field and hugged his broken body. And he could remember how everyone stared at him as if he were a murderer. In some wicked, strange way he was. It was his broomstick and his curiosity when taking the locket that killed Fly. Murder is something you cannot forget.

It wasn't until finals were approaching until Harry finally mentioned to Hermione about where he was. Of course, he didn't explain much or even have to say anything profound. All he told her during lunch one afternoon under the weeping trees was,

"Some things are meant to be. I know I was protected, and it was not my time. I don't know what I'm supposed to do now, but I can't sit around pretending I didn't have control of my actions. I did. I can't change that, but I can change my future."

Hermione didn't exactly understand Harry's words, but she did not one thing was true. Harry was meant for great things, and it was not his time yet. She knew because she loved him.

THE END


End file.
